


Reassembled

by Lynds



Series: Unconditional [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avenger Loki, BAMF Frigga (Marvel), Domestic Avengers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Loki/Tony Stark, F/M, Friendship, Gender Identity, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Loki, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) is a Good Bro, Loki-centric, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Nightmares, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Aftermath, Thor Is Not Stupid, Thor Is a Good Bro, Transphobia, not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 31,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8512570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/pseuds/Lynds
Summary: Series of short chapters showing the Avengers (including Loki) settling down to post-Chitauri life in the Avengers Tower. Starts a few days after the end of Unconditional





	1. Nightmares

Tony turned, scotch in hand, to see Loki leaning in the doorway.

“Can’t sleep either, Reindeer Games?” He poured another glass and gestured for Loki to join him on the couch.

“I do not understand your ridiculous nicknames, Stark.”

“I do not understand your inability to use first names.” He imitated Loki’s formal speech as the god folded himself gingerly into the soft leather. “How’s the chest?”

Loki moved his hand, looking down at the bandages. “I think it has finally stopped bleeding.”

“Oh great, only been, what, three days?”

“I would like to see you heal faster, mortal.”

“Trust me, so would I,” he snorted. “So, back to my original question. What wondrous dreams are you missing out on to hang out with me at 3am?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Nuh-uh, no misdirection, I asked first.”

Loki was silent for so long Tony thought he might have fallen asleep sitting up. With his eyes open. But eventually he spoke. “With so many delights, it is hard to know which one to consider first.”

Tony nodded in understanding. “You haven’t been to sleep yet, huh?”

“Nope,” he said, and Tony laughed to hear the modern turn of phrase coming from an ancient Viking god.

“Me neither. Fun times.” He stretched his legs out and propped his feet up on the glass coffee table. “JARVIS, play us a movie please?”

“Of course, sirs. Any preferences?”

“Barton insisted I watch the Lord of the Rings,” Loki ventured. "He had them on his iPad." Tony snorted at the mention of inferior technology and made a mental note to accidentally-on-purpose replace Birdy's tablet with one of his own. "We were able to watch to the end of the Two Towers while we travelled."

Tony laughed. “Of course he did. J, queue up the last movie, extended edition.”

***

“You are not Aragorn, Stark, it is obvious that the Captain is the leader of your Avengers.”

“Then he can be Boromir.”

“Can you imagine the sweet, innocent Captain trying to steal the ring of power from a defenceless creature?”

“No, you’re right. I guess you’re Boromir.”

“I am NOT Boromir!”

“Fine, then, you can be Frodo.”

“By what stretch of the imagination could I possibly be Frodo?”

“It’s you and Thor as Frodo and Sam. You’ve got that epic bromance thing going on, and you just got yourself stabbed through the ribs. And tortured. And kidnapped by Orcs.”

There was no response, and Tony glanced over. Loki wasn’t looking at the screen any more, his fists clenching and unclenching.

“Hey. Hey, Lokes, I’m sorry. That was uncool. You OK?”

“Of course, mortal. I am not as weak as you think.”

Tony snorted. “Weak? I don’t think you’re weak, far from it. I wouldn’t think you were weak if you wanted to curl up in a ball and have the rest of us take turns cuddling you.”

Loki burst out laughing. Tony had never heard him laugh properly, and the bright, sparkling giggles sounded so unlike any noise the moody god had ever produced that Tony couldn’t help laughing along. Every time they met each other’s eyes they collapsed again.

“You are ridiculous, Stark,” gasped Loki when he could speak again. “I have images of your group —“

“Our super secret boy band?”

“…each of you petting me like a cat and braiding my hair.” He clutched his chest, groaning through his giggles.

“I’ll braid your hair. I bet it’s really soft,” Tony cackled. “C’mere, Lokitty.” He scratched Loki’s scalp and ran his fingers through his hair as a joke, but Loki closed his eyes and arched into his touch slightly before sitting up again. “Hey, if you like it you don’t have to be ashamed.”

“I am not ashamed.”

“But do you like me petting you?”

“I am not a pet, mortal, I am a god.”

“You’re a god who’s spent the last three years being tortured.” Loki still sat, rigid and miserable. Tony sighed. “Did Barton tell you about Afghanistan?”

Loki looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “He said you were captured and held for three months.”

“Tortured, too.” Loki turned to look at him properly, and he took a deep breath. “When I came back, I could barely remember what it felt like to be touched with kindness. Pepper helped. But I couldn’t tell her everything. I didn’t want to seem weak to her either. I think the nightmares just got too much for her.” It was probably a good thing they had decided to just be friends. His most recent nightmares, staring into the depths of space while a vast army congregated on the narrow portal, would have chased her out of his life completely.

Loki raised an eyebrow. “ _Your_ nightmares got too much for _her_?”

He waved his hand. “It's not like that. Probably would have helped if I’d told her what was bothering me, but I couldn’t. I was afraid she wouldn’t get it, that it wouldn’t seem that bad to her. I was afraid that I’d tell her and she’d laugh and say ‘is that it? Is that all you’ve been stressing out over?’ You’ll probably think that too. You’ve been through much worse than I have, for much longer.”

Tony looked at his hands, awkward again. How could he help someone like Loki who’d gone through so much more than he could survive? He jumped as he felt long fingers brush through his hair.

“It is not objective,” said Loki, carding through Tony’s hair. “The worst thing you have ever experienced is different to the worst thing I’ve ever experienced, but it is still your personal nightmare, and none have the right to judge your responses to what you have been through.”

Tony closed his eyes. The rubbing on his scalp felt painfully sweet, and he was ashamed of taking comfort from someone with a hole in his chest. But if he wanted Loki to accept comfort he figured he had to lead by example. He tilted his head into Loki’s hand and sighed. The movie carried on playing, and as Annie Lennox started to sing, Tony felt Loki’s fingers slow down. His hand dropped off the back of the sofa and his head lolled back in an awkward looking position. Tony’s mouth quirked up in a half smile and he straightened up to gently pull Loki down so his head lay on Tony’s lap. He played with his long black hair, weaving the strands through his fingers, and before the credits had finished he had slumped back against the side of the couch and fallen asleep himself.


	2. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki wakes up feeling different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this was going to be a relatively light hearted and domestic fic, and then I got into Loki's head. Please look at the updated tags!

Loki’s first change into a female form came two weeks after her arrival on Midgard. She woke up after a broken night’s sleep to look down on a pair of breasts.

“Oh, fuck,” she sighed. At least a full day of walking around in an uncomfortable, itchy male illusion. And with the still-healing stab wound in her chest, that was going to be a significant drain on her magical resources. She wondered how long she could get away with staying in her room just so she could drop the extra height and the bulge in her pants and the flat chest. 

It was only 4am, though, so there was still time to wander around the tower as a woman, pick up some food from the main area and hide here as long as possible. Bruce would probably let her off her checkup if she said she was resting.

She materialised a black shirt and soft, dark green leather pants before padding silently on bare feet out of the door. She prepared herself to switch to her male form to use the lift, but before she could decide whether the voice would be enough on its own, Jarvis spoke. “Where may I take you, Ms Loki?”

“You can tell it’s me?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I observed your change at just after 1:32am. Am I using the correct form of address?”

“Uh, yes, thank you Jarvis,” she replied. It took her a moment to realise she was stood staring into the open lift without moving, or without telling Jarvis where she wanted to go. “If the common floor is unoccupied, I would like to go there, please, Jarvis. And…thank you.”

“Of course, Ms Loki.”

She stepped out of the elevator into the open plan area. There was a bar on the right, as in the penthouse, a kitchen on the left, and sofas and low table ahead of her, looking out over the city, so that the lights were like a galaxy below them, the sky dark enough to turn the plate glass windows into a mirror. When she caught the first glimpse of herself, she stood, gaping. Her hair was red.

Well, most of it was still black, or dark brown with a red hue, but…she touched the long strands. It was less curly than usual. She preferred it straight and short as a man, long and curly as a woman, not that anyone ever got to see that much, but now it hung close to her face with only the slightest wave until it reached just above her shoulders, where not only did it start to curl more like her male hair did when he was forced to let it grow long, but it had bright red streaks, almost pink.

Loki closed her eyes and smiled to stop herself from screaming. This was the first time she’d been female since escaping Thanos, and her body had formed a fitting tribute to the only being who’d helped her in those hellish three years. Who’d smuggled in cupfuls of healing liquid on days she woke up female and had too little energy to hide it, and slipped it to Loki under the veil of interrogation. She remembered the first time she’d been a woman on that hateful rock. For all else she had endured she would be eternally grateful to the Norns that Gamora had walked in on her male illusion flickering as she bled from a long strip of skin that the Other had peeled back from her torso. It had taken the woman less than a moment to step towards Loki and get right up into her face, keeping up a constant stream of vicious insults and threats, while keeping herself between the observers and Loki’s obviously female body. She’d cut her own thumb and slipped it in her mouth, feeding her on her own blood while she pretended to press against the bared muscles and nerves. The iron and nutrients helped, but more than that, Gamora inspired her. She had put herself in danger to help her, and she continued to do so whether Loki appeared as a man or a woman. She tortured, she threatened, she beat Loki and whipped ribbons into her back, but she seemed to know when Loki could take no more, and always stopped just short of that, and with her, Loki had a little less pride, screamed a little earlier, and made sure Gamora never looked merciful. 

Loki leaned over the back of the white leather sofa and clenched her fists in the soft material. She closed her eyes against the reflection, dropping her head so the blessed red and black hair fell around her face. She could not hide today. Not on the first day, not when her body had created this memorial to the woman who had kept the rape restricted to her male form, who had eliminated the risk of an horrific pregnancy, bringing an unwanted child into a life where it too would be tortured to manipulate its mother.

The lift door chimed and Loki startled so violently that the wound on her chest stretched and pain lanced through her. She almost doubled over, her tolerance for pain pathetically reduced after such a short time in comfort. When she forced herself upright, it was Romanov’s eyes she met.

“Loki?”

Loki stood, jaw tense. She forced her hands away from the wound, forced them to relax. Raised her chin so she was just looking down her nose at the Widow. Waited for the laughter and the sneers of disgust at the prince who was sometimes just a little princess.

“How’s your wound?”

Loki blinked. Romanov walked to the kitchen counter and started the kettle boiling. Loki followed. “Fine.”

“Tea?”

She nodded, still waiting. She wished Natasha would just get it over with. She wondered if she would react with mocking laughter, like Fandral and Sif, or horror, like Thor. She wondered what Thor would do to ensure Natasha’s silence, what he would have to pay to ensure his little brother’s dignity on yet another realm.

“You don’t want Thor to know, right?”

Loki’s head jerked up, red locks flashing in her peripheral vision. “What?”

Natasha gave her little close lipped smile. “You wouldn’t be so on edge about me seeing you like this if your brother accepted you. Gender fluid, right?”

“I…I don’t know…”

“That’s OK. You don’t have to know. You don’t have to have a label either, for that matter. But I’m wondering, do you not know because you just don’t know, or do you not know because you’ve hidden this your whole life, feeling like the only person in the universe who’s a woman one day and a man the next?”

Loki looked at her for a long time. When she spoke, she was unable to stop her voice from cracking. “There are others? On Midgard?”

Natasha nodded. “Sure, though humans can’t change their appearance like you do, they have to use more cosmetic means. Depends what people want, really.”

“And this is accepted?”

Natasha handed over her tea. “Not by everyone. There are still plenty of judgemental assholes on this planet too.”

“My brother is not…” Loki trailed off. “He is not judgemental.”

“I’m not saying he is. But a lot of them were, right?”

“Thor made sure the others told no-one when they found me. It was only Sif and Fandral. They probably told Volstagg and Hogun. Mother probably knew, though she said nothing. I assume Odin and Heimdall, being able to see all, would have known. I imagine it influenced their dislike of me.” Loki smiled into her tea. “I do not know what difference their silence made. All Asgard saw me as _argr_ anyway, one more piece of evidence against me would hardly have made a difference.”

“ _Argr_?”

“Womanly.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. When the lift chimed, Loki was still keyed up enough to jump slightly, though Natasha didn’t move.

“Morning Pepper.”

“Hi, Natasha.” The elegant woman’s brows raised when she saw Loki, who stood up immediately, not sure where to look. “Hi, I’m Pepper Potts, Tony’s PA.” She walked towards her, holding out her hand, which Loki gripped. 

Loki's eyes flashed towards Natasha, who looked serenely at the two of them through the steam from her mug, then turned back to smile at Pepper. “I'm Gemma.”


	3. Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki heals

“…and that’s how MRI machines work.” Bruce trailed off, wondering if Loki had fallen asleep in the scanner while he droned on, but the long legs bent and pulled the god out and onto his feet.

“Thank you, Dr Banner. I am always amazed at you mortals and your problem solving. What we would achieve with seidr, you have engineered from the four fundamental forces of the universe.”

Bruce shrugged and finished sterilising the work space in Tony’s stupidly well equipped medical room. “Any time you want to talk shop. I’m giving you a clean bill of health today. It’ll take a few days for it to completely stop hurting, taking into account your accelerated healing rate, but you’ll be good as new in about a week.”

Loki bowed to him, his newly short hair falling over his forehead. “I appreciate your help, Doctor.”

Bruce was turning to go when Loki spoke again. “You know, my original plan was to enrage your other self so he would hit me hard enough to break the mind link.”

Bruce turned, raising his eyebrows so that his glasses slipped down his nose slightly. “You must really have a death wish,” he said eventually.

“On the contrary. Notice that I only told you the truth once I was fully healed,” Loki flashed a grin.

“Why did you tell me at all?”

“I do not know.” Loki ran his fingers along the controls of an ultrasound machine. God only knew why they had one of those in Avengers Tower. “No,” he amended, “that is a lie.” He smiled self-deprecatingly, and Bruce crossed his arms and waited. “I told you so that I could apologise. I’m sorry.”

Bruce’s eyebrows shot up again, and he pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose again. “OK. Apology accepted, I guess.”

“I know what it is to be a tool. But,” he turned, pointing to Bruce, “that is not to say I would not do it again. I am not like you, Doctor. I may understand the distastefulness of using people as a means to an end, but I would do so anyway, if I needed to. You, on the other hand, are the most moral person I know.”

Bruce snorted. “Oh, sure, when Steve’s not around.”

“No. The Captain does not know darkness. He has seen it, has fought it, but he does not understand it. You and I, we have felt rage. We have been plunged into the darkness, revealed as monsters.” He looked into Bruce’s eyes, that shade of green so close to the other guy’s skin colour. “But you turn yourself away from it.” He laughed suddenly. “I apologise. Again. I am projecting.”

Bruce shook his head. “No, you’re right about me, about the rage and the monster. But I think you’re wrong about yourself. You act like that’s just the end of it, but it doesn’t have to be. You’re not a monster unless you choose to be.”

Loki smiled, sweet and desperately sad. “I’m afraid I may already have made that choice.”

“Maybe so,” he shrugged, then walked up to the taller man and placed both hands on his shoulders. “But you don’t just get one chance. You make the same choice every day, every moment. Whenever you feel the rage, and in your case, the jealousy?” Loki smirked and looked away. “You make that choice every minute, to be the monster or not. It’s fucking exhausting, and you’re not even making the choice to be a _good_ man or a monster, just…just _acceptable_ or monster. But you keep making that choice. Sometimes you get it wrong, and sometimes you walk away and nobody even knows you’ve fought that battle. But those times, the times that nobody notices? Those are the times you’ve won.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it...Loki's dealing with a bunch of different things at the moment, and I'm not sure how they're all going to come bubbling out of him by the end. What do you think?


	4. References

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor and Steve try to catch up on modern Midgardian culture.

Thor shifted the pizza box and the bottles of mead into one hand so he could knock on the Captain’s door with the other.

“Hey, Thor,” the man grinned, opening the door wide to welcome him in. 

“Good eve, Captain.”

“I told you before, it’s just Steve,” he said, leading the way to the sofa in front of the television. The room was decorated in warm, muted colours, and Thor realised that Stark must have spent some time planning the decor of each space. When the man had walked into the common area a week ago and announced their quarters were ready, everyone had simply stared at him. They had already been living in the comfortable guest rooms on the top two levels, and had not realised that Stark had been planning and preparing for this since he had met everyone on the flying fortress. The small mortal had been vibrating with excitement as he insisted on leading them all downstairs into their apartments, two on each level. Thor’s rooms, decorated in rich reds and gold, with a dark wood four poster bed, reminded him almost painfully of his home. They abutted Loki’s, and it warmed his heart to see no negative response from Loki when Stark announced that this would be the ‘Brodinson’s’ floor.

“I am not an Odinson,” Loki had said, calm and measured. Then he turned to Thor. “But I will be happy to live across the corridor from my brother again.”

Even thinking about his brother’s words, a week later, Thor felt the tears prickle behind his eyes. Having him back more than made up for the loss of Asgard, and he knew his mother would approve of him keeping Loki safe, even if it meant not seeing her for many years.

“So I’ve got a few movies for us to choose from,” said Rogers - Steve - gesturing to the television screen. “Natasha and Clint helped me choose, they suggested Titanic and Brokeback Mountain. I don’t know anything about them, really. And there’s the Wizard of Oz, which I’ve seen. You know that comment Tony made about the flying monkeys? This is where that comes from.” He rubbed his neck self-consciously. “I thought it would be nice to be the one with more cultural knowledge for once!”

Thor laughed. “Then we shall watch the latter, and you may start off by educating me.”

Steve and Thor worked together to follow JARVIS’ advice on making microwave popcorn, then settled down to watch the movie. Thor was engrossed in the story, so completely different from anything that would be told by the skalds in Asgard’s halls. The tale of the quest, strange beasts and magic was familiar, but the fact that the protagonist was a young girl, and that there were no glorious and bloody battles, was fascinating. Jane and Darcy had shown him television and some movies when he had first arrived on Earth, but he knew that their choices were a product of their own personalities and preferences. Darcy had insisted he watch Mulan, which had been to him like some sort of magic, with its paintings come to life. The hero also reminded him of the Lady Sif, and in one of his better days, when his mind was not set on Loki and melancholy, he had told the tale to her and the Warriors Three. Jane had been horrified at Darcy’s choice, and insisted on a proper representation of Midgardian culture, playing the Nutcracker ballet for him. He was entirely unsure about that.

“What did you think?” asked Steve, when it was over.

“It was enjoyable. Very different to our entertainment, and very different from the other movies I have seen on Midgard. I wonder at the variety of tales you have here, while on Asgard we are wrapt in sagas of battle after battle. That I can be so captivated by such gentle tales does great credit to your skalds.”

Steve laughed. “Gosh, I can’t imagine where you get your bloodlust from.”

“Indeed,” grinned Thor.

Steve looked at his watch and took another sip of the mead. Thor swirled the last taste of his own in his glass. He had been so excited to find mead in Stark’s favourite purveyor of alcoholic beverages, but this is but a poor imitation of the honeyed brew found on Asgard, and has affected neither him nor the super soldier.

“It’s still early. Want to watch one of the others?”

“Indeed. If you do not mind, I would like to watch the tale of the two brothers on their quest to the mountain.”

“They’re brothers?” asked Steve. “I just assumed they were friends.”

“Ah, perhaps they are shield brothers.”

JARVIS cued up Brokeback Mountain. The two men watched. Thor squinted at the language, not much able to follow their words or their accent, but heartened at the appearance of horses and guns, hoping for a battle at last. They watched the two men make friends and watch sheep and then…their mouths dropped open. 

Steve burst out laughing hysterically. “I really don’t think they’re brothers, Thor.”

Thor was flustered. “I do not understand. Is this type of relationship between men as common as that between women on Midgard? That there are tales about two men in love…” he trailed off, shocked. 

JARVIS spoke up. “Forgive me, gentlemen, might I clarify some matters?”

“Pause the movie, please, JARVIS,” said Steve, sitting up and wiping tears from his eyes. The image on the screen froze on a picture of the young dark haired man being embraced by his lover, and Thor felt a flutter of hope burn in his heart.

Steve cleared his throat and regained his composure after a couple of false starts and giggles. “What did you want to say, JARVIS?”

“According to what I have learned about your respective cultures, I thought it best to contextualise this movie and hopefully clear up any misconceptions you may both have about modern American - and Earth - culture. I hope you will pardon the intrusion.”

“Of course, JARVIS, thanks.”

“Is…is this kind of relationship acceptable, computer?” asked Thor, his voice breaking somewhat. Steve gave him a sidelong look.

“For the most part, yes, Mr Odinson. This is why I thought it best to stop the movie at this point. The film showcases a homosexual male relationship in the nineteen-sixties, and as such the two characters are restricted and persecuted for their love.”

Thor felt his heart drop once more, but JARVIS was continuing. “However in modern New York, the attitudes towards same sex relationships has progressed significantly, to the point that discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation is illegal, and that a same sex couple can be married. Discrimination _does_ still occur, but not to the extent that the characters would have experienced in the film, or indeed, the extent to which Captain Rogers would have observed in the thirties and forties.”

Steve’s head snapped up. “Two men can get _married_?”

“Indeed, sir.”

He lowered his head into his hands and stayed still for a long moment. Thor was not sure what to make of his compatriot’s reaction. Though JARVIS’ news gladdened his heart, he could not be sure that Steve, who had grown up in what seemed to be a similar environment to Asgard, could be thinking at this time. He patted him on the shoulder tentatively, and jerked back when Steve gave a shuddering sob.

“Steve, what ails you?”

Steve shook his head. “It’s…it’s all just too much. The changes…everything’s gone, and it’s been such a long time to everyone else, but to me, just a few months ago I was flying a plane into the ocean and…and now this. It’s not…not fair.”

Thor had no idea what to say to this outburst, and settled for reaching out again, patting him between the shoulder blades gingerly as he gasped between sobs, trying to bring himself under control again. 

At last the man sat up, scrubbing at his face and giving Thor a watery smile. “Sorry, Thor.”

“I cannot imagine the situation you find yourself in.”

“You can imagine it better than anyone else. You’re a fish out of water too.” He sighed and leaned back. “It’s just…I don’t know if it’s a special kind of irony or what. To me it was only a couple of years ago, Buck…” he trailed off and pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his elbows atop them to press against his eyes. “Bucky and me…only a few years ago, the way I feel time, we were hiding our relationship from everyone, terrified of being beaten to death for being too close in the wrong company. The…the commandoes, they kinda understood. They never said anything, but they knew. We had a bit more freedom. But now Bucky’s gone and _I’m still here_ and I’m living in this _future_ that’s so different from what we thought it was going to be and this…this is just cruel. It’s just…”

“Captain Rogers, I must apologise for upsetting you, sir.” JARVIS’ voice was subdued.

Steve shook his head. “It’s fine, JARVIS. I’m glad you told me. I don’t think I could have heard it any better.” He sniffed and looked at Thor. “Thanks for not running away in the face of overwhelming snot.”

Thor shook his head. “Not at all, Captain.” He took a deep breath. “This news is wondrous to me as well, but my gladness is bittersweet in the face of your pain. I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks, Thor,” he said, standing up to take a tissue from a box on a bookshelf. “Hey, wait, do you mean you’re gay, too?”

Thor raised his eyebrows, then laughed. “Not I, Steve. But my brother has long been tormented for his preferences on Asgard. He was secretive, to say the least, with his lovers. I know there was never any proof of the few men he took to his bed, but because of his ways and his use of magic, he was dubbed _argr_ anyway. To think that he should find such freedom of thought and manner on this realm we have long thought backward! My heart is gladdened that my brother may find some love here that he can celebrate.” He smiled. “Not that my brother is one for shouting anything from the rooftops.”

“That’s great, Thor.” Steve gave a genuine smile and patted his arm, and Thor’s heart hurt for this kind man who felt he had lost his lover twice. “Did Loki have any girlfriends at all?”

Thor was shocked. “No, of course not. I have said, he loved men - and not many, at that.”

“Oh, I see…” Steve looked away, suddenly awkward, and Thor, trying to take more care over all of his words since Loki’s fall, noticed his change.

“Friend Steven, have I said aught to upset you?”

“No, not at all…I mean…” Steve huffed and rubbed his forehead. “Sorry. It’s strange to be honest about things like this. Before today I’ve been keeping my preferences a secret, even after I woke up, so it’s weird to be so open so suddenly. I’m used to thinking of it as a perversion, believing I’ll go to hell…”

“I will not pry if you do not wish to talk about this.”

“No, it’s OK. I just…I always found men _and_ women attractive. Bucky was…he was my everything, you know? But the way things were then, we knew we couldn’t be together. We both had girlfriends too. Well, Buck had more than me, he was gorgeous, obviously, but I was pretty keen on this one girl.”

Thor’s eyebrows shot into his hair. “I have never thought such to be possible.” He considered for a moment, then shrugged. “In honesty, I never thought about it at all. I have only ever found women appealing, my brother has only ever found men appealing. I cannot see such things from his point of view, but neither can he look at women with my eyes. We do not need to. All I ever needed to do was ensure his liaisons were kept a secret. Not that he ever truly needed my help in that regard.” 

Steve laughed. “I can imagine Loki was pretty good at keeping his own secrets.”

Thor rolled his eyes. “You could say so. But the woman of which you speak. What of her?”

Steve’s good mood evaporated again. “I saw her a few days ago, actually,” he sighed.

“Why, this is good news, is it not?”

He dropped his head into his hands again, and Thor cast around for something to say to bring the man back to his good humours again. “I guess,” Steve said, voice muffled. “But she’s in her nineties, Thor, she’s old and ill, and can’t leave her bed.”

Thor’s heart dropped to his feet. Ninety, and infirm. In Asgard, at the age of ninety they were barely out of their mothers arms. Less than a century was all the mortals had to live their bright, beautiful, chaotic lives, all the changes and fierce bonds and love and heartbreak of a life, crammed into the space between two breaths. And when his thoughts went to his beautiful, intelligent, fierce little Jane, who had changed so much about him in but three days, his heart broke entirely. And he had been apart from her for three _years_. He had been a fool. He did not even know how old Jane was, how long this new clock in his heart could be set for.

And his brother…to have found a realm so open-minded and yet protected from his father had seemed to good to be true, and now it was clear that it had been. For Loki could have a lover in this realm, he could fall in love and even marry, but the happiness would last precious short decades before heartbreak would tear him apart. Tear both brothers apart, their beloved partners growing old before them and passing into oblivion. Thor dropped his head into his own hands and did not bother to try and stop the hot tears leaking from his eyes.

“Sirs? If I may…may I please suggest you not watch either of the movies you’d planned to this evening?”

Thor and Steve both looked up when JARVIS spoke, and couldn’t help but laugh quietly to see themselves in mirroring poses of despair. “Come now, Steve. Let us take JARVIS’ advice, he has not yet served us wrong.”

“Thank you, Mr Odinson. And might I suggest watching the trailers before you accept any further recommendations from Ms Romanov and Mr Barton?” 

“Trailers?” asked Steve.

JARVIS brought up something called youtube on the screen, and showed the trailer for the film they had been watching, and one for the third film, which they had not yet started. Both agreed they probably weren’t in the right mindset for either programme, and JARVIS suggested they watch a series of shorter programmes called Friends.

Steve returned to the kitchen to make more popcorn, and Thor stretched his legs, looking through his bookshelves. There were framed photographs in front of some of the spines, and Thor wondered which of the men in the group had been Steve’s beloved. The woman in the small, creased photograph must have been his other paramour, and Thor felt a small smile curl one side of his lips to see the direct gaze of the beautiful young woman.

He continued scanning the spines of the books, not expecting to recognise anything. So when he saw something familiar he pulled it out of the shelf. 

“What you got there, Thor?”

“This book, Hamlet…it is familiar to me and I know not why.”

“Well, it’s probably the most famous piece of literature in the English language,” he said, putting a bowl full of popcorn onto the table. “Hey, I know what you’re thinking of. That first day we met you, before we knew Loki was trapped? He quoted Hamlet, didn’t he?”

Thor’s eyes widened. “That is where I remembered it from! ‘Never doubt I love’!” He smiled at the book, grateful to the words inside for helping to free Loki.

“Borrow it if you like. In fact, that’s a great idea, you should read all William Shakespeare’s plays. _That’s_ an important cultural reference for you, the Bard invented hundreds of words and phrases we still use today, and he wrote them over four hundred years ago.” Steve opened a trunk and pulled out a more battered book, much larger. “Here, I knew I had a copy of the complete works somewhere.”

Thor frowned at the cover of the larger book, bearing the face of a dark haired, balding man in a strange collared tunic. His beard and moustache reminded Thor of Fandral’s, and a ring glinted in one ear. He counted on his fingers. Then threw his head back and laughed.

“Thor? What is it?”

“You say this man, William Shakespeare, wrote his works over four hundred years ago? And you call him the Bard?” Thor shook his head, still chuckling. “Loki was absent for some years during that time, and when he returned, he spoke of a man named William Bard with much fondness. It would not surprise me to learn that my brother had been spending his time with such a silver tongued mortal.”

“Wait,” said Steve, a wicked grin out of place on the fresh faced soldier. “Are you saying Loki and Shakespeare…?”

“I have no evidence, Captain. But I would not be surprised.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Natasha and Clint were trolling. This ended up being a lot angstier than I intended, but I hope you enjoyed it...Thor and Steve are planning to make their cultural movie nights a weekly thing, by the way.


	5. Barton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Clint talk alone for the first time since the Chitauri attack.

Loki didn't see Barton at first when he walked into the communal kitchen, occupied as he was with the tracking spell he had on Thor. When he looked up and met the Hawk’s eye, both men froze.

“Excuse me,” said Loki, and turned to go.

“You don't have to run away every time you see me, you know.”

Loki froze and turned slowly. “I understand if you would not want to be in my presence and am willing to facilitate that.”

Barton shrugged. “We’re both living here for now. It’s gonna get complicated. Let’s just get it all out in the open and move on.”

“Very well,” he replied, and moved cautiously towards the kitchen table. They regarded each other for a few moments in silence. 

“I apologise for taking your mind.”

Barton’s jaw clenched and he looked down at the paper bag of food he was unwrapping. “Good,” he said eventually.

Loki waited for a moment more, then stood to leave.

“It wasn't a one way thing, y’know.”

He froze, but did not turn.

“I couldn't see everything, like I guess you could, but what I did see was…” he trailed off with a shudder.

“I could not see everything either,” Loki said, ignoring the second part. “Or else I would not have bothered with questions. It was not a possession, although it could have been had I desired it. Your will and mine were simply bent to the same purpose.”

Hawkeye nodded. “I remember feeling completely at peace. Never felt like that in my life." He clenched his fist around a paper wrapper. "That’s what fucks me up. Not the fact that you would have got me to fight my friends, or kill for you. I do that already, I get it. I’m a professional weapon.”

“A tool in someone’s hand,” said Loki, with a small smile.

Barton hummed. “Yeah. That’s normal for me. But the fact that I didn't question any of it in my own head? That’s what bothers me.”

Loki looked at him fully for the first time. “You lost your choice in the matter.” He frowned and looked down. “Although when I saw your mind, all I could see was your fury at me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You railed against the connection so loudly that even while you were strategising for me, the true part of you was teaching me some fascinating swear words.”

Barton snorted with laughter, and Loki couldn't help his own grin. Then Barton frowned again. “Doesn't mean I don't still want to shoot you in the eye,” he said, fiddling with the packaging of his burger.

“I understand,” Loki said. He allowed himself to remember _his_ Hawk, whose fake loyalty and kindness had warmed his foolish soul. He had been right - the man had heart, and he had rightfully turned it against Loki. 

Barton was fiddling with a straw in a plastic package when Loki stood. He was about to take his leave when Barton lifted the straw to his mouth and blew the plastic wrapper so it hit Loki dead in the eye.

“What the fuck?”

Barton grinned. “Much better.”

Loki glared at him, then laughed, rubbing his eye. “Are you satisfied?”

“Yep,” he replied, poking the straw in his paper drink cup. “I think we’re good. But,” he narrowed his eyes, all mirth forgotten. “If you mess with my head again—“

“I will not,” Loki assured him.

Clint nodded. “You know what it feels like, huh?”

Loki closed his eyes. He had hoped the man had forgotten. “Yes, I do.”

“I remember you zoning out every now and then and twanging back. That’s when I’d hear you over the mind link, you know?” He put a slice of fried potato into his mouth. “You’d scream.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at him, but didn’t trust himself to talk.

Barton picked up his hamburger but just stared at it for a moment. “You’d scream, and then start cursing, swearing revenge in whispers.” He shook his head, trying to pull himself out of the memories. “You could have done that to me?”

He looked at the Hawk for a long moment before nodding once. Barton shivered.

“Could you do that to me now?”

Loki closed his eyes. “If I never feel the touch of another mind in mine, it will be the kindest the Norns have ever been to me. Yes, Barton, I _could_ , but it would break both of us.”

Barton took a bite of his burger and chewed, staring into space. He swallowed. “Swear it.”

“What?” 

“Oaths mean a lot to you guys, don’t they? Swear you’ll never mess with my head again.”

Loki materialised a dagger and slashed his right hand, letting nine drops of blood land on the table while Barton leaped backwards with a shout. 

“I, Loki Thorsbrodir, swear upon the lives of my mother and brother that I will never touch or influence Clint Barton's mind, will, soul or intent with my seidr or that of the mind stone.” The drops of blood glowed green and disappeared, and he vanished his knife again.

“Fuck! What the fuck was that?”

“A binding oath. It is impossible for me to go back on my word. Even if I wanted to, even if forced by…outside influences, I could not connect to your mind without Thor and Frigga’s life being forfeit. And I would rather kill you than allow them to die, so either way.”

“Oh, thanks very much.” Clint sat back down, grumbling “why do people never swear on their own lives anyway?”

“I hold little value on my own life. I’m also rather difficult to kill.”

“Ha.” Barton ate more of his burger while Loki flexed the healing scar on his hand. “So…Thorsbrodir, huh?”

Loki nodded. “I am no longer Odin’s son.”

“But you still call Frigga Mom, right?”

Loki hesitated. “Yes. However, I imagine she may no longer recognise me as her son either. It would be understandable, as I tried to kill her true son. But Thor has made it clear I am still his brother and…and I owe him my loyalty.”

One side of Barton’s lip curled in a smile, and he held out his bag of fried potatoes for Loki. He smiled back, and was about to take one, when his tracking spell pinged.

“What was that?” Barton asked, as Loki jumped.

“Thor has returned.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ve got some sort of beacon on your brother? Fucking stalker.”

Loki just grinned and projected a small image of Thor in the elevator. Clint leaned forwards, poking at the illusion that stood on the table between them, and Loki slapped his hand away. 

“What the hell’s that for?”

“Just wait for it.”

Thor walked through the elevator doors, down the corridor to his chambers. With a gesture, Loki carried the view through the wall and into the room ahead of him, and then to the bedroom, glancing at Barton to see if he would figure it out.

“Holy shit, is that a bucket of water?”

Loki grinned, all his teeth showing. Barton cackled in glee as the door opened from the outside. Thor stepped through as the pail wobbled, then tipped, then thumped down onto Thor’s head. 

“Direct hit!” whooped Barton. Loki laughed so hard he almost lost control of the illusion. “Fucking hell, that’s not water, is it?”

“It is green glitter,” gasped Loki, clutching his ribs.

“You evil genius!”

 The tiny Thor illusion shoved the bucket off his head, and both men howled with laughter to see him roar. They didn’t need to be able to lip read to tell he was cursing his little brother.

“Loki, you little shit. That’s going to take forever to get out of the carpet,” Clint gasped for breath. “Oh man, where did you get that much glitter? It’s magic, isn’t it?”

Loki shook his head. “Tony introduced me to eBay.”

“Thor's gonna kick your ass when he finds you,” he grinned. “What, is it revenge for something?”

Loki shook his head, still giggling at his brother dusting the cursed stuff from his hair and swearing to himself. “I was feeling better, and wanted to let him know.”

“So you thought you’d glitter bomb him?”

“He is always talking about the good old days and our childhood. I thought this would make him feel more at home.”

Barton laughed again and rubbed his eyes. “What’s next, man? Cling film on the toilet seat?”

“What is cling film?”

Barton’s smile grew wicked. “Oh, listen closely, Loki. This tower won’t know what hit it.”


	6. Autocorrect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, this fic has been woefully neglected. I'm very blocked...I've actually written a couple of scenes I want to bring in later, but this one's been half completed for weeks and I haven't known what to do with it! It was meant to be silly and fluffy, just inspired by my laptop autocorrecting seidr to weird constantly. And then Loki and Tony got talking and all the flirting turned to serious conversation and OH MY GOSH these two are never going to hook up at this rate! Anyway...hopefully it'll flow a bit more now. Thank you for reading!

“Stark, explain to me why this hateful contraption refuses to let me talk about my seidr.”

Tony turned his head, his arms still buried up to the elbows in the Mark VII’s circuits. “Yww hah huuhn njuh hu?”

Loki frowned at him and took the screwdriver out of his mouth. 

“Thanks. Your phone won’t let you do what now?”

“Every time I try to explain to Dr Foster the function of seidr on the use of the Bifrost, this machine changes it to ‘weird’. As a male magic user I am used to being the butt of jokes, but I would _quite_ like to make amends to my brother’s lover for the near destruction of her town, and I would _appreciate_ it if you would assist me in threatening the little _piece of shit_ in a language it understands. Please.” 

Loki vibrated with tension, grinding the words out from between clenched jaws, and Tony let go of the suit to grab the beleaguered StarkPhone before the screen succumbed to about a thousand Newtons of grip strength. “OK, buddy, easy there. Looks like you just got suckered by autocorrect, I’ll turn it off for you.” He flicked through the menus and handed it back to the still pouting Loki. “The word’s not English, so it tries to guess what you probably mean based on usage algorithms and relative position of letters on the keypad. It’s not perfect, but it can give some pretty hilarious results, have to show you some time. Now, the really important question is this - did you just use the phrase _piece of shit_ in context?”

Loki’s face quirked into a slow grin. “I may have been spending too much time with Barton.”

Tony tried not to stare at that face. Those dimples! That mischievous glint! Hot damn. He flicked the phone back to Loki and acted cool. He was Tony Stark. He did not moon over sexy aliens.

“So, you think Foster’s getting closer to making an Earthgard Bifrost?”

“It is not unlikely,” he conceded. “Although she would do better if she did not argue that what I can do is against the laws of physics and therefore impossible. Have you arrogant little mortals not realised that your seventeenth century scientists are capable of incomplete understanding?”

“Oh, right, and you guys are so flexible in your viewpoints.”

Loki laughed, and Tony had to stop what he was doing just to enjoy the sound of it, and then wipe the goofy smile off his own face. Loki leaned his hip on the edge of the table and watched Tony fiddle with the suit, and Tony searched desperately for conversation to keep him there, maybe make him laugh again.

“So, why did you destroy a random desert town in the first place?” Oh, wonderful, Stark, that’s definitely a lighthearted topic that’ll bring the giggles.

Loki tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling and crossed his arms. For a moment, Tony thought he was going to pretend not to have heard the intrusive question, which would be fair enough. “It feels like a very long time ago,” he said at last, so softly Tony wasn’t sure he was aware he’d spoken out loud. Then he turned to Tony with narrowed eyes. “When you came back from Afghanistan, did you feel as if you could not rationalise many of your decisions from before?”

Tony put his screwdriver down and shut the suit up, making a gesture to Jarvis to put it back into storage. Then he went over to the scotch in the corner and poured two glasses. “Yes,” he said, handing one to Loki. “Things that made perfect sense before…I can hardly remember being in the state of mind that could have been possible to make those decisions.”

Loki nodded and smiled. It was, again, a different smile to before, sad and self deprecating. “And the things that bothered you then feel now like gross over-reactions.”

“Yeah, sort of,” he shrugged. “Not much used to bother me, outwardly, though. It’s more like after Afghanistan more things _did_ bother me, and people couldn’t understand why I was upset about them. Like, I’d been selling weapons for years, there’s even a part of me that _knew_ that some of them were going to end up in the wrong hands, and now suddenly I cared about it. People couldn’t understand why it bothered me.”

Loki hummed and cocked his head on one side. “It seems we have had different effects. Perhaps it is because I took things very seriously before. Now I am just glad to have survived. Some insults still anger me, as you can tell.” He waved his phone at Tony before putting it back in his pocket. “But it does not pull the ground from beneath me any more.” He sipped his drink and stared off to one side. “Perhaps it is because there is no ground beneath me. I am still falling in some ways.”

Tony reached out and squeezed his arm without really thinking about what he was doing. As soon as he did it he regretted it, wanted to erase the last five seconds, but Loki turned and smiled at him, and then he wanted to leave his hand there all night. “What makes you angry, Tony?”

He pulled out a stool and sat with his back to the work bench, leaning his elbows against it. “Let’s see. Lots of things now. People taking my stuff. That includes my weapons, but also my people.”

“I did not think it was appropriate for one to own people on Midgard,” he smirked. 

“Ha ha, very funny. I mean my family. And because I don’t have any actual family, that’s you guys. The Avengers, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy. Stark Industries.”

“You would include me in this?”

“Of course,” he said, and bit his lip. Too much? But Loki just smiled into his drink and flicked a sly glance at him from the corner of his eye.

“So,” he cleared his throat. “What doesn’t make you angry that used to?”

He tipped his head back again, stretching out that long pale neck, and Tony could see himself kissing those sinews. He wondered what Loki would enjoy, if the feeling of his beard against the sensitive skin would be irritating, or if he would make beautiful noises.

“I no longer care that I am considered weak,” he said, pursing his lips.

Tony couldn’t contain the snort. “Weak? What the fuck kind of idiot thinks you weak?”

Loki laughed, and Tony restrained himself from doing a mini fist pump. “You have met my brother, have you not? He is more the warrior norm, though I admit he is stronger than average. Next to him, and others of his ilk, yes, I am weak. That is why I use magic when I fight.”

“Jeez, remind me to never go to Asgard without the suit.”

“I do not care if people think I fight without honour, either. Not that caring ever made me stop,” he shrugged. “If it keeps me alive, and my companions safe, I care not whether I do so by lying or cheating. And,” he added, after another drink, “I do not care about being Jotnar.”

"That's your species, right? The blue thing you did in the Battle of New York? Why would you care about that anyway? That shit was awesome.”

“The Jotnar are considered monsters. They are the enemy of our people, many think of them as mindless brutes. Thor himself swore to destroy them all on several occasions. I very nearly _did_ destroy them all.”

“What?”

Loki looked down into his drink. It was now obvious that he was avoiding Tony’s gaze. “When I learned of my true origins, my brother had just been banished for starting another war with Jotunheim. My father explained that he had taken me from the battlefield as a baby, and that he had had some plan for me. He then fell into the Odinsleep, and I was made king.” He gave a silent laugh. “It is hard for me to remember exactly what I was thinking at the time. I remember an almost constant state of panic almost screaming through my head, and the plans I came up with to solve this predicament, to make the truth go away were utterly ridiculous. I sent the Destroyer after Thor and his friends to stop them from coming back to Asgard. I believed that if Thor discovered the truth that he would kill me, too. And with good reason, actually. I had sabotaged his coronation, after all. I wanted to prove to Odin that no matter the truth, that I was his son. A son of Asgard. I lured my blood father into a trap and killed him in Odin’s name, and then tried to destroy a realm of monsters. Thor stopped me, and then Odin made it clear my efforts were in vain. What I do remember very clearly was that moment, hanging off the bridge, when everything in my head went silent and I knew what had to be done. When I let go, for one long moment I was perfectly at peace for the first time in days, and I thought I had done the right thing.”

Loki finished his drink, still staring straight ahead, and Tony listened to his own thumping heart, not knowing what to do with all this information. Comfort him? Show him how horrified he was?

At last Loki laughed again. “Of course, then I realised I was not going to simply die. The fall through the void was…excruciating, but it did not kill me. And then…he plucked me out and re-made me, and I learned what monsters truly are. And it has very little to do with how they look. Some of the beings that broke my bones with their teeth…they were quite beautiful to behold.”

Tony let out a long breath. “Fuck.”

Loki shrugged. 

“Do you…do you regret it?”

“Do I regret killing my birth father?” Loki shrugged. “I don’t know. I killed one bastard to impress another. Bit of a waste of time, and angst.” He looked into his empty cup and his shoulders slumped. “Do I regret turning the Bifrost on Jotunheim?”

He was silent for so long Tony thought he’d broken a Norse god. When Loki spoke it was barely above a whisper. “Would you expect all the Chitauri to be the same? All monstrous? Some were. Some enjoyed peeling my skin off. Others brought me food. That was their job, but…there were some who talked to me constantly when they came, and stroked my hair.” He snorted. “It would appear that you cannot judge an entire species by the actions of a few, or even the actions of many.” Loki met Tony’s eyes at last, all traces of his smile dying. “I do not know how many died due to my actions.”

Tony leaned his head against Loki’s arm. “Neither do I, Lokes.”

He could see Loki’s hand twitch and clench, and then slide around his back to rest between his shoulder blades. 

“We’re a cheerful pair tonight.”

“Yes, we are.”

“C’mon,” he patted his chest. “Let’s go and change Natasha’s settings so when she tries to write Steve it autocorrects it to the declaration of independence.”

“Yes, let’s.”


	7. Fierce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers do battle for the first time since the Chitauri, and Thor is horrified by the changes he sees in his brother.

When the alarm went off in Stark Tower for the first time, Thor and Bruce jumped and looked at each other. The three agents were first onto their feet, and within moments had retrieved their weapons, gathering at the quinjet to await instructions from the Director. Bruce ran to the locker room to change into Tony’s newly invented stretchable clothing, and Thor, shifting into his armour with one of the few spells he’d ever had the patience to learn, leaped off the balcony, Mjolnir whirling. 

The slime coated beasts that swarmed the Chrysler building dripped acid onto the streets below, and the people of the city screamed as they sought shelter, causing as much destruction and injury in their flight as the creatures themselves. Thor and Tony were the first on the scene, and set to work attacking the ape-like monsters which bore their teeth and shrieked before launching themselves at them.

The others arrived soon afterwards, landing on the roof of a nearby building. Within moments Clint was letting fly his arrows, the explosive charges tearing heads off and splattering everyone with slime. Thor looked down at his skin, which flared red until he shook the goo off. “Do not let the slime touch you. It burns,” he called over the comms.

The moment of distraction was enough for one of the creatures to leap onto him, dragging him to the road below. Thor roared in pain. The splash of acidic slime had been uncomfortable, but having the beast cling to his bare arms and bite at his neck and face was beyond even his pain threshold. Some strangely detached part of him, under the whirl of pain, mourned his inability to enter berserker state, something he had not managed since Loki’s fall.

His attacker was wrenched from him with a jolt, and he blinked through his one working eye. There were green flashes, howls and sickening tearing sounds, and as the roaring of blood and panic in Thor’s ears faded, he heard the other Avengers over the comms.

“Jesus, Loki, calm the fuck down.” Tony sounded horrified.

“Loki, we need to limit some of the damage, for God’s sake, take the fight away from those civilians!”

“Thor, you OK?” Clint yelled. 

“Yes, thank you, Hawkeye.” Thor struggled to his feet, shaking the last confusion from his head, ignoring the burning across his arms and face. The sight that he could finally focus on made him stand still, his mouth dropping open. His little brother, the one who had avoided battle their entire lives, the diplomat, the trickster, the one who worked in the shadows to keep everyone safe, was standing in the middle of a ferocious battle with three of the beasts, while another four lay at his feet in pieces. He spun a vicious spear of shimmering green _seidr_ around his head and body, often fighting one handed with the thing while hurling daggers with the other hand. His face was contorted into a snarl, his whole body radiating fury and hatred. He was covered in acid from head to toe, and Thor could not understand how he could continue to stand, let alone fight, with the pain he must be in.

One of the apes fell, headless, while Tony fired two targeted shots to take the others out simultaneously. The metal suited man then swooped down and scooped Loki up, carrying him back to the tower. Thor realised he was still standing in the same position, as dazed as an adolescent in his first war.

“Thor, are you OK?” Steve ran up to him, concern obvious under his cowl.

Thor nodded, still dazed.

“Do you want to get back to the tower? You look pretty banged up. SHIELD’s coming over with a hazmat team, we can’t help with clean-up much until they get in. And we won’t be able to help with the civilians, we’re covered in this stuff.”

Thor looked at him properly for the first time, watching him cradle his badly burnt left arm. “I can take you back,” he offered, gesturing with Mjolnir.

“No offence, buddy, but you’ll just get more of that gunk on me. I’ll get the quinjet back. Bruce didn't hulk out and he seems pretty resistant to the stuff so he’s staying. Clint’s are on his way down to help, and Coulson’s already calming people down, so Natasha’s taking me back. She got some of it on her too.” He frowned at Thor. “You sure you’ll be OK flying in that state?”

“Thank you for your concern, Steve, but using Mjolnir as natural to me as walking.” He managed a smile, and hurled himself into the air. The wind resistance, usually so refreshing, tore at his burned skin, and for the first time in his life he regretted not taking the offered assistance. He landed on Tony’s platform and staggered into the building.

“Sir and Master Loki are on level thirty six, in the medical bay,” JARVIS told him as he opened the doors to the common room.

“Thank you, JARVIS.” He walked towards the open elevator doors. He hesitated when he got to them. 

He wasn’t sure he wanted to see Loki.

For so many centuries he had seen his little brother stand back and defend them, protect him in particular when he was caught up in the roaring adrenaline of battle. The six of them should have been able to pair off, Hogun with Volstagg, Sif with Fandral, and Thor with Loki, and for two thirds of them it worked perfectly. But Thor, though it burned him, could not remember a single time he had watched out for his brother in battle. Loki had worked to defend all of them with his seidr and strategising eye. If Thor had noticed, it was only to feel annoyance and Loki denying him an opponent. But during the three years after his fall, he had thought carefully on all their fights, and even visited a couple of the mages to have his memories made visible for him, to watch without the haze of bloodlust over his eyes. The little brother he had seen in those memories was nothing like the vicious, furious warrior of this battle. There had been nothing of the trickster left in him in those long moments during which he had thrown himself recklessly, Thor-like, into the most dangerous part of the fight and torn the enemy apart with his pure rage.

At last Thor stepped into the elevator, his heart aching more than any other injury. What had the Chitauri done to the cheeky, clever little trickster? He felt again the grief and guilt of not being able to save Loki, and a cold knot of rage settled itself into his bones. If he ever found another of the beings who had done this, he would avenge the death of that part of his brother.

He was wary about stepping into the medical room. Seeing how Loki had been so fundamentally changed in that one way made him worry irrationally that he would be changed in every other way, that this battle would be the floodgates to tear the rest of him away again.

So when laughter pealed out across the room, it was like the sunrise. 

Loki was lying bare chested on the hospital bed while Tony stood beside him, out of his suit again, painting Loki’s burns with a white paste. Although painting was maybe a strong word. He was scooping the paste up on a spoon and flicking it at Loki, who was…giggling.

Thor couldn’t stop the smile curling at his lips. Loki’s head fell back against the pillow and turned to him. “Thor! Are you OK?”

“Aye, Brother. I am less wounded than yourself.”

“Dude, when Loki saw you get taken out by that one monkey, he went crazy. I saw him jump off a building like a freaking base jumper, grab the critter and rip it apart with his bare hands.” Tony shook his head. “How those hands aren’t burnt down to the bone I don’t know.”

Thor shook his head and smiled at Loki. “Now which of us is the reckless one?”

“You got into that mess in the first place, Thor. I think it is still you.”

Thor washed the acid off himself, then sat on the bed by Loki’s feet, the aluminium frame whining under their combined weight. Tony spread the burn paste over Thor’s blisters, shuddering in sympathy when he coated his left eye.

“Damn, that looks nasty. Are you sure that’s going to heal? You’re not going to be competing with Fury in the eyepatch stakes, are you? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, with the long hair and the beard, you make a better pirate already.”

“Do not fear, Man of Iron, my eyesight will return.” Thor glanced at Loki, making to roll his eyes at the fuss, but Loki wasn’t looking at him. His attention was on Tony, who was still chattering away. A soft, fond smile spread over Loki’s blistered face, which he quickly sharpened into something more like a smirk when Tony turned back to him. Thor watched, ignored, as Tony and Loki quipped and verbally sparred, and… _flirted_.

When Steve and Natasha arrived moments later he climbed off the bed and took another pot of the paste to the two of them, helping to apply it so that Loki could continue to talk to Tony. He was unsure that they had even realised the door had opened again. As he spread the burn cream on the others, he allowed his mind to travel down darker roads. Had he not realised his brother’s plan in time, had he listened to his father and hardened his heart, what more would have been lost? Thor had a glimpse into an alternate reality, in which the ferocity and rage he had witnessed in the battle became a part of Loki’s entire being, poisoning his words and bringing hatred to his every thought and action. He turned to look at him as he smiled at Tony. 

No. That outcome would have been unacceptable.


	8. Girls' Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki goes to the ballet with Pepper and Natasha, and it turns into the classic Girls' Night. Fluff and angst ensue

Loki walked beside Natasha, her long red-tipped hair swaying around her biceps as she tried to gather her breathing under control. 

“You ready?”

She nodded, and followed Nat into the common room. She waited for the outcry, the shock, the disgust, the recognition of what she truly was, and she would face it with her head held high. 

Clint was the first to see them. “Hey, Nat. Who’s this?”

Thor turned at the question, and leaped to his feet in obvious panic when he caught sight of Loki. Loki knew what this was doing to him and felt the guilt pulse through her. He had worked so hard to keep her hidden, and here she was, flaunting her femininity in front of their new shield brothers. She felt her head drop in shame and forced it back up.

Natasha put a hand on her shoulder and ignored Thor. “Everyone, this is Gemma.” Loki watched Thor’s reactions. His mouth clicked shut and the anxiety and worry flickered away to be replaced by a mask. Loki had never seen those blank masks, certainly not on his brother’s open face, though he knew exactly how they felt from the inside. He realised in that moment how much his brother had changed in his absence, and he felt a stab of guilt for the loss of his bright innocence.

“Hey, Gemma,” Clint waved. “How do you guys know each other?”

Loki cleared her throat. “We…we’ve done a couple of jobs together.”

“Nice to meet you, Ma’am. Would you like a seat?” Loki smiled at Steve. The fact that the soldier was standing too masked Thor’s response and as unconscious as it had been she was grateful for it.  
 “Thanks,” she said, and slipped onto the nearest couch, leaving enough space for Natasha to lounge with one leg tucked up under her.

“What’re we watching, boys?”

“Shawshank,” Tony replied. Loki chanced a look at him. She didn’t know what she wanted to see. He had a small line between his brows, but he smiled, perfectly friendly, when she met his eyes. “Where are you from, Gemma?”

“Manchester,” she replied. 

“The one in New Hampshire or the one in England?”

“I wasn’t aware there was an American Manchester,” she laughed. 

“Oh, man, you’re MI6, then? Is this a diplomatic visit?”

“Nothing like that. I was just in the area and dropped in to see Nat,” she smiled. The muscles in her back started to relax slightly as Thor sat down and wrapped his arm around Jane, who was visiting for the weekend. He even managed to give Loki a strained smile.

“Tony, I need you to sign these,” said Pepper, her heels clicking as she walked in, handing Tony a tablet and stylus. 

“Ugh, JARVIS, why didn’t you say she was on the hunt?” Tony whined, but he took the work, tapping and scribbling through contracts and Norns’ knew what else. He probably didn’t have a clue what half of it was. He trusted Pepper completely, and the loss of their relationship had done nothing to change that. In fact, he had admitted to Loki, at five o’clock one morning when they had yet again been unable to sleep, that he and Pepper fitted together better as friends than they ever had as lovers. After the initial hurt it had been like a sigh of relief, and he was just thankful he hadn't lost her. Loki found herself smiling at the woman, grateful for the stability she gave Tony, who needed a strong foundation, someone to be with him no matter what.

As if she had felt Loki’s gaze, Pepper looked up and blinked. “Gemma! I didn’t see you there, how are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, Miss Potts.”

“Pepper, please. How long are you in the area?”

“I don’t know…”

Pepper looked at Natasha. “Are we still on for tonight?” Nat nodded, and Pepper turned back to Loki. “Natasha and I were going to the ballet in a few hours. I know you’re Nat’s friend, and I’m guessing you don’t see each other much - would you like to come too?”

“Oh…I couldn’t impose—“

“You wouldn’t be imposing at all.”

“C’mon, Gemma,” Nat nudged her with her elbow. “We’ll have a girls’ night out.”

“That’s a great idea! Jane, you should come too. It’ll be like Sex and the City, we’ve even got the right number.”

“Oh…uh, I’m sorry, Pepper, but Bruce, Tony and I have a date with a mass spectrometer and some Asgardian rocks tonight. And I’m not really one for ballet. Or Sex and the City, actually,” Jane admitted. “It always just reminds me how ungainly I am. I can’t imagine that’s a problem any of you have.”

“Well, being anywhere near a lab makes me want to break out the Xanax,” Pepper grinned. “Each to their own. Gemma, do you like ballet? Don’t let me just talk you into it, if you’d rather scan rocks too, I completely understand.”

“I have never been to the ballet,” Loki admitted. “But if you are both sure, I would like to.”

“Perfect,” Pepper smiled so sweetly as she left that Loki almost forgot for a moment that she ran a vastly successful multinational corporation _and_ organised Tony Stark. She wondered who was truly more dangerous, Pepper or Natasha.

Natasha nudged her an hour later. “We’d probably better get ready, Gemma. Do you have anything to wear?”

“I do not know what is appropriate for the ballet.”

“C’mon, I’ll lend you something.”

She was back in her room, holding the beautiful, multi-layered knee length wrap dress up to herself, when the change came.

“Fuck,” he said.

He slumped onto his bed and rubbed his temples. Was this _entirely necessary_ , he wondered? Did his body have some sort of sick sense of humour, changing him at the least opportune times? He ran the silky fabric over his fingers. To refuse such a kind invitation would be incredibly rude. And he _wanted_ to see the ballet. He had always been interested in movement, be it dance or spell casting or ritualised battle drills, and he had heard much about this. He did not think he would be welcome in his male skin. Pepper had not invited any of the others, and had made it clear it was a ‘Girls’ night’.

He took a deep breath and forced himself into his female form. It was the first time in a thousand years he had forced the change _this_ way, and it felt constricted, and yet pulled on his skin. He looked in the mirror, and for the first time seeing that face, he did not see himself. He groaned and changed quickly, not paying much attention beyond the essentials. His hands felt too small, his chest felt heavy, and the less said about his crotch, the better. But his hair…no matter what form he took, no matter who he was, he would never regret his tribute.

“Loki?” Natasha knocked at his door. “You ready to go?”

He quickly checked himself over and opened the door. She looked at him critically. “Looks good on you,” she nodded. “Not too short? You’re a lot taller than me.”

“It is perfect, thank you.” Did his voice really sound like that when he was a woman? He shook it off and followed her to the elevator. 

“You still sure you want to be Gemma, not Loki?”

“I am sure. I do not think everyone would be as understanding as you.”

“But you prefer Loki?”

“I am still myself when I am a woman,” he said with a smile. 

“OK then.”

The ballet was exquisite. As uncomfortable as he was in his own skin, in his clothes and those hateful shoes, he could not regret a moment of it. He spent the evening with two intelligent, quick witted people, discussing everything from literature to martial arts while drinking disgustingly sweet cocktails, and if this was what it took to find his place among like minded people, he would happily wear a fake skin every day he was not a woman.

Pepper was giggling and leaning on him as they rode the elevator back up to the common floor, after a brief stop at Natasha’s room to pick up a large box of nail polish. “I can’t believe you did that to the CEO of Oscorp! It’s everything I’ve ever wanted to say to that slimy little creep and never had the opportunity.”

“What are you saying, Pepper, of _course_ you can believe Natasha did something like that. I just can’t believe she didn’t hang him out of the window by his tie.”

Natasha grinned smugly. “I can’t tell you any of the things I’ve done on missions, but tormenting that scumbag was pure pleasure.”

They slipped out of their shoes as soon as the lift door opened, and Loki almost groaned at the pleasure of the carpet beneath the arches of his feet. “I cannot imagine how painful it must be to wear those ballet shoes,” he sighed.

“It’s pretty awful,” Natasha nodded. “The days you don’t bleed you get sent back in to do some more pointe.” She looked up at Pepper’s horrified face. “Or…maybe that was just my training.”

“Sometimes,” Pepper said, opening the box and nosing through Natasha’s vast collection of little coloured bottles, “I forget you’re a completely badass ex-Russian assassin spy.”

Nat snorted. “Any more adjectives for me?”

“Nope. Ooh, pretty.” She picked up a deep burgundy colour. “Elegant wish, apparently. Who makes these names up, really?”

“There’s one called Taupe-less Beach,” Natasha grinned. 

Pepper rolled her eyes and picked a handful more of the colourful little bottles. “Come on, Gemma, let’s complete the stereotype.”

“Uh…I do not think I am very good at it—“

“Don’t worry. I’m brilliant at it.” She bumped into an armchair. “Oops. I am better at it when I’m sober, to be fair. Sit!” She pushed Loki onto the sofa and he laughed as he bounced on the cushions. She sat down beside him, cross legged, and pulled one hand to rest it on her knee. Loki immediately felt self conscious. If she knew he was a man, this sort of friendly intimacy would be seen so differently, and he felt guilty for stealing her casual touches. He glanced up and met Natasha’s eyes. Her head was tilted to one side, lips slightly pursed, and he just _knew_ she saw through him. But he didn’t know what to _do_ about it. He forced himself to relax and keep his fingers as still as possible while Pepper painted them a deep red with just the hint of a sparkle, the same colour as his hair. It was beautiful. Even on the wrong hands, he enjoyed the contrast with his pale skin, and he found himself looking through the other colours while Natasha chose a royal blue for Pepper’s nails.

“My turn, Gemma,” said Nat, nudging Pepper away from Loki. “Choose a colour for me.”

“I’ll go put the kettle on,” Pepper said, shaking her hands to dry the polish. 

Loki picked out a crimson he’d seen her wear on her lips and bent over her fingers, resting them on his stockinged knees.

“You’re not female right now, are you?”

If he had not spent the last thousand years masking his responses he would have spilled the bottle of polish all over his borrowed dress. As it was, he froze for just a moment on her index finger. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re deeply uncomfortable, Loki. Don't worry, it’s not obvious at all. I’m just awesome.”

He smiled, but slumped his shoulders. “I…I did not wish to miss out on the Girls’ night because my body decided it no longer wanted to be female.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

He snapped his head up and deliberately let the masks fall, willing her to believe a born liar. “I have never been had so much enjoyment from social interaction in my entire life.”

“You do know men can go to the ballet, right?”

“Is that so? And I suppose they can wear nail polish, and enjoy the company of women more than most men, and—“

The elevator pinged again and Loki nearly flinched again as Tony, Bruce and Jane walked out, chattering about isotopes and molecular ion peaks.

“Ooh, Tash, you’ve got your nail polish out again!” Tony made grabby hands at the box and started searching through and holding bottles up to the light. Loki stared at him until Natasha poked him with her foot to make him finish his job.

“Wow, Natasha, you’ve got every colour going here.” Jane picked out a honey brown and laid it next to her hand.

“Brucey, do my nails, will you?” Loki was relieved he had finished Natasha’s nails at last. He gaped at Tony openly. Was he making fun?

“Oh, no, Tony. You don’t want me anywhere near anything artistic.”

“Come here, Tony, I’ll do it.” Pepper came back from the kitchen with a tray of steaming mugs. Tony knelt on the floor in front of her and held out his hands. She placed them on her knees, just like she had for Loki. It could only have been because they had been intimate before. This was still acceptable for them.

“Bruce, I’ll do yours,” Jane offered.

“I really do not suit nail polish,” Bruce laughed. “Stubby fingers.” He held up his hands to demonstrate. Was this truly his only reason for refusing? Loki narrowed his eyes.

“Well, if it doesn’t suit you, wear, like, neon pink or something. Do it ironically,” Jane said.

Bruce leaned forwards over the box. “Yeah, OK, but I think Hulk green would be better.”

Jane threw her head back and laughed. “Awesome.”

Loki watched, speechless, as Bruce blew on his nails and laughed at the ridiculous colour. Tony then bent over Jane’s hands and painted her nails perfectly, without a speck on her cuticles.

“You’re brilliant at that,” Jane said, fascinated.

“Tony was terrible for stealing my nail polish,” Pepper smiled.

“And I’ve got steady hands. Engineer,” he added.

Bruce looked at Loki’s deep red. “Hey, it matches your hair, nice. Have you ever worn it when you’re Loki?”

Loki felt all the air rush out of his lungs, and the blood drain from his face. He couldn’t bear to look at Tony. Why did he have to be in the room right now? Of all the people who could have learned…and how did Banner know? He looked at Natasha, pure betrayal burning through him, but she looked just as surprised as him.

Bruce looked around. “Uh, oh, my god, I’m so sorry…I just…I thought everyone knew?”

“Knew what?” Pepper asked, looking between Bruce and Loki. 

Loki hung his head and shifted to his male form, transforming the dress into a shirt and trousers, both black. He wanted nothing more than to fade into the night. 

“Woah,” Jane said, hand over her mouth. “That is awesome. Where does the extra mass go?”

“Loki,” Bruce said, hands hovering over his shoulder. “I am so sorry, I can’t even…I didn’t mean to out you. It must have been the Hulk sensing you two were the same person, I just…it was so obvious to me, I didn't even think…I just thought Gemma was your name when you’re a woman, oh god…”

Loki forced a smile at Bruce. “It was not your fault.” He looked at Pepper. “I am so sorry for misleading you, Ms Potts. I will just…” He stood to leave.

“Hey, Loki, it’s OK,” she said, getting to her feet as well. “I mean, sure, you could have told me, but I get why people keep these things secret, it’s really fine. Don't leave.”

“Yeah, come on Lokes, I’ll do your nails again.” Tony…Tony was talking to him? He was not disgusted? Loki dared to turn and glance up at his face. He was also standing, his head on one side, beckoning him back to the sofa. He looked around at the others.

“This…this does not bother you?”

“Well,” Natasha said. “It’ll bother me if I don’t get my dress back.”

Loki grinned suddenly, bubbles of hysteria almost breaking out. “I will return it clean, of course.”

“So you can choose whether to be male or female?” Jane asked, then put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m being nosey, ignore me.”

Loki chuckled. “No, it’s…it’s fine. I can choose what my body looks like, I’m a shapeshifter. But my gender…no, that just happens.” He looked at Pepper. “I was female when you invited me to the ballet, but I switched while I was getting changed.” He grimaced. “I was selfish, I did not want to miss out on the girls’ night, so I…lied and wore the female skin even though I was a man at the time. I am sorry.”

Pepper rubbed his shoulder. “Aww, honey. I understand, but for future reference, you can come to the ballet with us however you want to.”

“You can be whatever you want to here, too, you know,” Tony added. His brown eyes were so kind Loki thought he might melt into their softness.

“Thank you,” he said. “I…Natasha told me I would not be met with the kind of disgust I am accustomed to, but I thought it best to keep my female self separate.”

“Well,” Tony said, patting his knee and picking out a dark green polish. “I knew there was something I liked about Gemma.”

Loki savoured the warmth that uncurled in his chest, and held his hands out for Tony to paint his nails.


	9. Much Ado About Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An early Christmas present of fluffy fluff

“Yo, Tony, Loki, pizza’s here,” Clint yelled into the vents.

“Mr Barton, you do know the vents are sound insulated?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure, JARVIS, I knew that.” Clint leaped down off the counter and stuck his tongue out at Natasha when she smirked at him. “Could you pass the message on to them instead?”

“Of course, Mr Barton. Sir has been informed, but he and Mr Thorsbrodir are quite involved in their discussion about the design of a mark VIII suit.”

“Are you being ignored again, JARVIS?” Natasha smiled.

“Yes, Ms Romanov.” JARVIS sounded irritated. If he’d been a human Clint would have offered him a conciliatory beer. What would be the digital equivalent? A mild virus? Clint wondered what drunk JARVIS would be like. He’d probably tell everyone how much he loved them and then prank call Justin Hammer. Clint grinned to himself as he jumped over the back of the sofa and landed between Thor and Steve.

“What are you grinning at?” Steve asked, taking a piece of pizza.

“Drunk JARVIS,” he replied, mouth full and voice muffled. Steve just looked confused and frowned up at JARVIS’ sensors. Clint didn’t elaborate. Watching him figure it out was much funnier. “What’re we watching?”

“Much Ado About Nothing,” said Natasha, her legs kicked up over the arm of the plush chair in the corner.

“Uh, never heard of it.”

“That’s because your idea of culture is The Expendables 2,” she snorted. “Anyway, it was Thor’s turn to choose.”

Thor swallowed his mouthful of pizza. “The Captain was kind enough to lend me his copy of Shakespeare’s complete works, and when I learned that some of them had been televised I could not resist. I am sure young William used a number of Loki’s insults in this play. In Henry the fourth as well. There were many that sounded familiar. Loki came back from Midgard with new slanders, so it seems to have been an equal exchange.”

Natasha laughed. “Why does that not surprise me? We should watch the Hollow Crown series too, then.” Clint groaned. “Aww, don’t be like that, Hawkeye, there’s fighting and drunken antics in that one.”

Clint would never admit it, but the movie was actually pretty good. Ahem. For a chick-flick. The fake wedding was just starting when Tony and Loki _finally_ turned up, bickering. 

“No, Stark, you would not kick the Aesir’s collective asses. You are no warrior, though you may think it.”

“Ooh, get you with your nose in the air. I’ll take you any time, pretty boy.”

Clint raised his eyebrows, momentarily distracted from Benedick and Beatrice’s veiled flirting. He was so damn tempted to make some innuendo about Tony _taking_ Loki, because oh my _God_ if those two didn’t get a room soon the pheromones would start seeping into the water course.

Loki rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, a pitying look on his tilted head. “Tony, if you could beat but _one_ of Thor’s idiot friends I will _eat_ your conquests.”

“You’ll eat them? Really? You’ll eat them or you'll eat me?”

Loki pursed his lips, failing to hold the snort in. “Who would want to taste your wares, Stark?”

“Uh, let’s see, only everyone. Just look at me, seriously. Who wouldn’t want this?” Tony gestured at himself and did a slow turn on the spot.

“Yes, Tony, you are truly a gift to women.”

“And men. I’m equal opportunities in every way.”

Clint saw Loki’s jaw drop, just for a moment. He glanced at Natasha who was now openly choosing to watch their very own smart mouthed couple instead of the one on the screen. 

Loki recovered himself quickly. “Indeed, Stark. All beings are lucky that you are too fickle to love one, as that way you can be shared around.”

Tony’s hand stilled pouring a tumbler of scotch, and Clint wondered if Loki had gone that little bit too far. The entire group had their backs to the screen now. Tony and Loki were far enough apart from each other that watching their interaction was like watching a tennis match, but neither of them had noticed the other Avengers were even in the room. 

Tony snorted and took a sip. “Oh, sure. Love. Who’d want that. Yeah, I’d rather hear Coulson read out one of his detailed mission reports than hear a man say he loves me.”

“Or a woman.”

“Yeah, or a woman. That’s…that’s totally what I meant anyway.” He held out a tumbler to Loki, who took it, without quite meeting his eye. “I mean, sure, I’d probably take you out. Or something. You know, just…because I feel bad for you, new to Earth and all that.”

Loki’s eyebrows all but disappeared in his newly short hair. “Oh, indeed? Well. I suppose it would be rude to turn down one so…small.”

Clint slipped off the sofa and walked up behind Tony. “Peace,” he said, shoved him. Tony lost his balance and fell into Loki’s chest. “I will stop your mouths.”

Loki looked down at Tony, his hands wrapped around his waist where he’d caught him. For a moment the room was still. 

Then Tony reached up with both hands, cupping Loki’s cheeks, and pulled him down to kiss him. Loki’s hands fisted in Tony’s shirt and he pulled him closer.

The Avengers managed to keep quiet for about three seconds. Bruce was the first to break out whooping and cheering, and the others joined in. Clint bowed like he was born to be on a stage. Loki and Tony pulled apart and looked around like they’d noticed their audience for the first time.

“About time,” grinned Steve. “Now, can we watch this damn movie all together?”

Clint jumped back into his seat.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Barton. Quoting Shakespeare?” Natasha smirked at him.

“I…I got it from the film! I’ve never read this before. Or…watched it.”

“Sure, Clint. Only the thing you quoted doesn’t come ’til right at the end.”

“Shut up, Tasha.”

“I know you of old,” she grinned. He threw a bit of pepperoni at her.

Tony and Loki sat on the empty two-seater sofa, both flushed pink with embarrassment. They were keeping their eyes firmly on the screen. Well, when they weren’t glancing at each other and pretending they hadn’t.

On the screen, Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson finally got around to admitting their feelings. 

_“Serve God, love me, and mend.”_

Out of the corner of his eye, Clint watched Tony take a deep breath, gathering his courage, and link his fingers with Loki’s. Loki leaned slightly into his side, and Clint tried hard not to smile, to stop himself looking like a complete sap.

_“I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should really say, I have never watched the Branagh/Thompson version of MAAN, but I know Branagh directed Thor so I couldn't resist :) I watched the David Tennant/Catherine Tate one in London and I can't imagine it being done better - I also teach it to a group of homeschoolers, and we have regular rants about how Don John is acting out in response to his mistreatment and how much of a douche Claudio and Leonato are. Those kids are really into English Lit! Surprising in some ways, for 13 year old girls who aren't too sure how to use speech marks or paragraphs, and use 'lol' in spoken conversation, but man, can those kids argue the motivations of central characters!
> 
> So I hope this isn't too contrived, but I wanted them to cover as many of Beatrice and Benedick's arguments as they could...what do you think? Virtual home made mince pie for anyone who can spot all of the references. I counted 10, including the 2 quotes at the end. Though a couple of them you might consider the same reference, spread over two people's speeches...


	10. Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is not a panacea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be very triggery for past rape/non-con. I know because it triggers me to re-read it, and I've had a few moments like Loki has here. Writing this scene helped me a LOT, but reading it, not so much!

Tony’s beard scratched agains his lips as he kissed him, pressed against the bar. He tasted of the scotch he’d been drinking before he backed Loki against the marble counter, and the touch of Tony’s tongue against his own sent tendrils of pleasure down his spine. Tony tangled his hands in his hair, scraping nails gently down his scalp, and Loki could feel the shorter man’s arousal pressed against his thigh. He moaned slightly as he moved against it, and smiled into the kiss when Tony shuddered at the fiction. One of Tony’s hands slipped out of his hair and grabbed his ass instead, pulling it towards him, pressing to find his entrance.

And with a jolt there were two different scenes. There was a twisted voice in Loki’s head, reminding him of the last being who’d had him. _Do you remember how he touched you? Do you think it’ll hurt again? Do you think he’ll make you scream?_ The voice didn’t even sound concerned. It sounded idly interested. Loki tightened his hands around Tony’s waist. Who needed a torturer when your own mind was willing to do the work for you? He ran his fingers up Tony’s ribs until they reached the arc reactor. His fingers tapped around the metal and glass, something grounding, something uniquely Tony, that the Other didn’t have, before he bent his head to claim Tony’s lips again.

Tony pulled Loki’s leg up around his waist and kneaded his ass. Loki couldn’t help his flinch, and a wave of pure fury flooded through his veins. He demanded his stupid mind stop making connections between his rapist and his lover. There was _nothing_ to connect them, _nothing_ , and it wasn’t fair…

He spun Tony around and pressed him against the counter instead. The sudden freedom took some of the pressure off his lungs, and he gentled his kiss again. His fingers were in Tony’s hair, another grounding feature, because the Other had nothing so soft as the brown strands. Then Tony slipped his hand up Loki’s shirt, and scratched fingernails down his ribs.

Loki leaped back from Tony, breathing fast, his every muscle twitching, battling the adrenaline that told him to _fight_ , to escape, and the last vestiges of control told him this was Tony, and he didn’t mean him any harm.

“Lokes?”

Loki tried to smile and calm down, take the worry off Tony’s face. “It’s fine,” he said, coming closer to wrap his arms around him again. “Just startled me.”

“Are you sure you’re OK?”

Instead of answering, Loki dipped his head and captured him in a bruising kiss, trying to recover some of the passion, trying to force evil thoughts from his head. _Come on_ , he wanted to beg, _fuck him out of me._

Tony squeaked and pulled back with a pained grimace, rubbing his arms. “You Norse gods, man. You don’t know your own strength.”

He had hurt Tony. He’d been so busy trying to chase his own oblivion that he’d forgotten how delicate mortals were and bruised the man’s arms holding him close. All the air rushed out of Loki like he’d been punched in the gut and he staggered back. He couldn’t bear this any more, the rage rising through his body, trying to burn out that cold voice laughing at him, telling him he was ruined, he’d never be normal, never be able to feel pleasure again without seeing that bastard touching him and…

He teleported down to his own room and only then allowed his rage out, a shockwave of fury that battered everything in the room, splintering his furniture and knocking the metal chair off its feet. When the magic subsided, he screamed the rest of his rage out, screamed until his throat was raw and he’d run out of air, and the rage and fury and hatred were still there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'll make it better...


	11. Not Your Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony copes with Loki's flashback and panic attack. Natasha guides them both through it.

Tony was reaching out for Loki when he disappeared from the penthouse. “Jarvis?”

“Mr Loki has appeared in his room. His vital signs are consistent with severe emotional distress, sir.”

“Shit!” Tony raced to the elevator, which Jarvis already had open for him. He had no idea what he’d done to make Loki so angry, and he desperately replayed the last moments of their kiss. How had he managed to fuck everything up so soon? 

Every moment in the elevator was hateful. Why did it take so long to travel down two floors? When the doors opened _at freaking last_ Tony raced out to Loki’s room. He was wondering whether to override the privacy settings and just go in, because he didn’t think Loki was going to be in much of a state to give permission, but it was a moot point. The door was in splinters against the opposite wall. 

Tony called Loki’s name before stepping inside. He was reckless but he wasn't stupid, and who knew how Loki would lash out if he was startled. _Fuck_ , but he’d made a mess of his room. Every piece of furniture had been hurled away, leaving scrapes and in some cases scorch marks, though thankfully there was no sign of any fire. It was like a bomb had gone off, and you could visually trace the destruction back to its epicentre, where Loki stood, vibrating and hyperventilating.

“Lokes? Hey, babe, I’m coming closer, OK?”

“No! No, Stark, stay away. It’s not safe for you to be near me.”

“Can I do anything?”

He shook his head, his eyes still tightly closed. Tony made his way around him so he wasn’t coming any closer but could now see his face. Tears were tracing their way down his cheeks and dripping steadily onto the floor.

“Please…please tell me what I did wrong? I won’t do it again, I swear. I’m an idiot, I know, but I’m a quick learner.”

Loki sobbed, and then couldn’t get enough air back into his lungs before the next sob. They shook his body so violently he had to curl over, hugging his chest. 

“Oh, God, Lokes, I’m so sorry…I’m so—“

“No, it was nothing you did, please, do not say so. It is not you who should be sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything—“

“Your arms.”

“What? My arms?” Tony looked at his hands, then remembered the pinch in his biceps. “Oh, shit, no, Lokes, that was nothing. You didn’t really hurt me, I told you I didn’t like it, and you stopped, no harm no foul, right?”

But Loki still couldn’t stop crying. He crouched down and wrapped his hands over his head, tearing at his hair with those long fingers and rocking back and forth as if he was trying to fit himself into the smallest possible space. Tony couldn’t bear it any more and stepped forward to wrap his arms around his hunched back. Wrong idea. Loki flinched and gasped, and though the sobs stopped, his hyperventilation got worse. Tony had an out of body moment when he realised that this is what Rhodey saw of him when he’d had that moment in the cafe. And like Rhodey, he hadn’t a clue what it was about.

“Tony? Loki? What’s going on?”

Tony turned to see Steve and Natasha standing at the doorway, Steve with his shield out and Tasha holstering her gun. He opened and shut his mouth, speechless for once.

“Hey, Steve, could you get Thor and go up to the common area please? JARVIS, lock down this floor for a while, we’ll give Loki some privacy.” Natasha looked at Steve just long enough to see him nod and leave, then started walking around the room, picking bits off the floor. She found a velvet cushion and dusted it off before walking over to Loki. “Here. It’s soft.” She put it in front of him, then sat down on the floor next to Tony. “Hold it. It’ll ground you.”

One trembling hand clenched around the pillow, and Loki shifted to his knees, tucking his feet underneath him as he buried his face in the soft fabric. He was still hyperventilating, and his fingers scrabbled desperately around the cushion. 

“Stark, any idea what set it off?”

Tony turned wide eyes to her, his own hands shaking. “I don’t know…we…we were kissing…”

Natasha scrunched up her face and nodded. “Ah. OK.”

“OK, what OK? What’s going on, Tasha, what did I do?” He hated the way his voice cracked like a teenager at the end. He scrubbed at his face, eyes flickering from one side of the room to the other. He wasn’t in the void. Look, there were other people there. Sure, one of them was having a horrific nervous breakdown but…fuck. Uh, there was light coming in the windows. That wasn’t like the void. He was fine. Just fine. He forced himself to remember what they’d been doing when Loki had lost it. What _happened?_ It had felt so good to him, why had it affected Loki that way? Why had Natasha reacted like…Tony froze. 

Oh God. 

“What have I done?” he whispered, hand over his mouth in horror.

Natasha shook her head. “Nothing, Tony. Loki, we’re going to think of things that prove to you you’re not _there_ any more, you’re here, and it’s just us, OK? JARVIS, can you play something calm? Like Bach’s cello suite?”

The strings hummed through the room, turned up loud enough that Tony could feel the it in his marrow, not quite vibrating, not painful, but bone deep all the same.

“No,” gasped Loki, and Tony nearly fell forward trying to hear what he was saying. “Tony’s music…angry…like in the lab.”

“R…really? Uh, OK, JARV, please play Black Sabbath.” Tony glanced at Natasha, who shrugged. 

“Doesn’t matter what it is. Everyone’s different.”

“What is this?” he asked.

“Panic attack. It’s fine, you hear, Loki? The worst that can happen is you’ll black out and your body will take over and do the breathing for you, OK?” Loki nodded. “Do you want Tony to hold your hand?”

Loki’s hand reached out, and Tony broke land speed records moving closer to link their fingers. He desperately wanted to wrap himself around him, cling to him, stop him drifting away in zero gravity, but that was what _he_ needed, not Loki. He lifted the long fingers, twitching against his grip, up to his lip and brushed a kiss against them. Loki immediately started rubbing his thumb against his beard.

The three of them sat like that as Loki’s desperate gasp slowed, and his thumb made more rhythmic motions, not panicked scrabbles. Natasha had her feet out in front of her, sitting calmly, while JARVIS played his lab session playlist. 

It felt like the end of a marathon when Loki finally took one deep, shaking breath and lifted his head from the cushion to rest it on Tony’s shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” he whispered.

“No need, Loki,” Natasha smiled. “What do you want?”

“To not be pathetic.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself,” she said. “You’ll be dealing with this shit for a long time, but that’s OK. We’re all here for you if you want to talk. Or just if you want to listen to angry music. Oh, and Tony, don’t think I haven’t noticed you needing to deal with that wormhole and nearly dying again thing.”

Loki’s head shot up and he cupped Tony’s cheek in one hand, staring at him with his pale, streaked face and beautiful swollen eyes. Tony rolled his own. “I’m fine, Tash, can we just focus on Loki?”

“Nope. Rhodey told me about the cafe. You two are gonna have to learn each other’s triggers and what you both need when you have an attack.”

“I…what? When I have a panic attack?”

“Yeah, Stark, what did you think it was?”

“Tony…” Loki opened and shut his mouth, looking more distraught than he had throughout his whole panic attack, and that just wasn’t right. They were supposed to be focusing on Loki, not his stupid lapse in control!

“I’m _fine_ , babe, it’s nothing. It’s you I’m worried about.” He slowly wrapped his arms around Loki, who tucked his face in his neck and sighed. 

“Tony, don’t. You’re not going to make it better by pretending it doesn’t exist. Look, you can help Loki by getting help yourself. Deal with it together.”

“No, Tasha, this is not the same thing. What Loki’s been through…this is nothing like that, you can’t even…”

“Tony,” she sighed. “It’s not about what you’ve been through, just for a start. People get panic attacks from social anxiety, from exams, from difficult family situations, and all of them feel just as horrifying. You don’t get to quantify experiences like that. And for seconds…are you kidding? All of us have been through enough shit to develop PTSD ten times over. What, you think I’ve never had a panic attack? I only started getting them when I joined SHIELD, actually. When I started feeling a tiny bit safe. Bet you never had an attack back when you were with the Chitauri, right, Loki?”

He shifted himself to sit against the wall, pulling Tony against his chest so they could both face Natasha. “No. If I had had a panic attack I would have been doing their job for them.”

She quirked half a smile. “Exactly. A panic attack is just all that adrenaline not having anything to do. If you’re in a really life threatening situation, you get to let it out somewhere, kick some ass. But when the triggers hit, and there’s nothing to fight against, it all gets locked in this weird cycle. It’s kind of a compliment for someone like us to have a panic attack in front of another person. We feel safe enough with that person to stop their own fight or flight response.”

Loki laughed and tilted his head back to lean against the wall.

“Babe, what set you off?” Tony asked quietly. “I don’t want to do that again.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Natasha added.

Loki shook his head, but squeezed his eyes shut and took his time forming a response. “You are the first being to touch…” he trailed off and cleared his throat, staring at the ceiling. Tony felt his heart break. He knew he had figured it out, but for Loki to say it out loud made it real, took away any sweet doubts. And Loki knew it too. He kept opening his mouth, starting a sentence, then running out of sound. At last he clenched his fists and said blandly, almost resigned, “they raped me. In my male form only, else I would have surely become pregnant. One of his so called daughters hid my female form from them. Saved me.” Loki smiled with no humour at all, still not looking at anyone. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

Tony wrapped his arms tight around Loki’s chest and hid his face against his shoulder. “Never say sorry for what’s been done to you, Lokes.”

“I am sorry because I am more broken than even you believed, and I allowed you to enter this relationship without the full information.”

“Nobody ever has all the information when they start anything. That’s why we have relationships, to learn about each other. And it still doesn’t make any difference to how I feel about you. Wouldn’t have made any difference if I knew from the start.”

Loki wrapped his arms tight around Tony and buried his face in his hair.

“I’m gonna leave you two to your beat-up bedroom,” said Natasha, climbing to her feet without a single cracking joint, the ageless bitch. 

Tony turned his head and smiled at her. “Thanks, Natasha.”

“Talk about your triggers, you idiots.” She grinned, waved, and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We might be nearing the end of this fic...I think I've got one more chapter to go but I'm not completely sure...is there anything anyone wants to see before we wrap this up!?


	12. Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane has words with Thor about Gemma/Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is particularly for Just Me, who said they wanted to see Thor's reaction to everyone being cool with Loki's gender fluidity...I'm still thinking about how to get Fandral and Sif here for a later chapter :)

“You know Gemma’s actually Loki, right?”

Thor looked at Jane’s angry face, her foot tapping, her beautiful heart shaped face in a frown, and her arms crossed over her chest, and his heart broke.

Jane’s kindness, her egalitarianism, had been the catalyst for Thor actually starting to _think_ about things on Asgard, about the status quo, and the way people behaved around and talked about Loki. After she had faced him and basically _told him off_ about many of the things he did as a matter of course, he had begun to look beyond the obvious and consider how his actions would affect those around him. It had started with such simple things as not throwing his goblet to the floor where a servant would have to pick up after him, and had ended with him defying his father and king and seeing through the mind control on his brother.

He adored her. He felt quietened when she was with him, like he didn’t have to prove anything to her because she would love him no matter how he behaved. She had seen him at his worst, and still found space in her heart for him. When he was with her, and with the rest of the Avengers, he did not have to worry about being the loudest, the centre of attention, the most important person in the room, because not a single one cared that he was the Crown Prince. To them, he was just Thor, and he could sit in an armchair in silence, watching his friends interact, running his fingers through Jane’s silky brown hair, and _not have to be the heir to the throne_. He had never felt so free, and at the root of it was Jane.

But if there was a choice to be made, to Thor, there was now only one outcome.

He straightened his back, put steel in his spine, and ignored the part of him that was falling inside. “My brother is who he is, and I will ask him to put up with torment no longer. If it displeases people to discover this problem of his, I would sooner leave than have him suffer the sneers of others again.”

Jane’s jaw dropped and she _slapped_ him! Thor stared at her, not sure whether to be furious or impressed or amused.

“Thor Odinson, how _dare_ you call your sibling’s gender fluidity a problem! No _wonder_ he’s so fucked up about it! Do you know he thought we were going to kick him out for joining in a girls’ night and putting on nail polish when he had actually switched to male half way through? You should have seen him, Thor, he was heartbroken when we found out, what did you guys _do_ to him on Asgard?”

Thor stared at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish, but the words would not come. He had to shake himself to be able to make a sound. “You…none of you cared?”

“Of freaking course not, Thor, why would we? He’s gender fluid, his body just happens to match. Tony was—“

“ _Tony_ was there? Oh, Jane, this is terrible, Tony will torment him, and his heart will break, it will be like Fandral all over—“

She smacked him again, this time on the arm, but it actually stung on his bare skin, and he frowned.

“Are you quite done?”

He glared at her.

She took a deep breath. “Thor. Clearly there are some things on Asgard that…suck, majorly. I’m guessing people don't like Loki being gender fluid?”

“People already call my brother _ergi_ for being slender and using magic. I have lost count of the number of honour battles he has fought in response to such slurs, and the number I have fought on his behalf without telling him. The fact that he actually does turn into a woman _and_ prefers the company of men…if more people on Asgard had discovered this, he would have been even more tormented than he already was. I fear he would not have survived.”

Jane deflated and rubbed the arm she’d just smacked. “That…that’s awful that he had to grow up like that, Thor.” She smiled at him, “I guess he’s lucky to have you fighting his corner and not joining in with them. But you know, you don’t have to do that here. And you _definitely_ don’t have to think of his gender fluidity as a problem! That’s like saying his…I don’t know, his black hair is a problem! It’s just part of him.”

Thor held her shoulders. “It _has_ been a problem, Jane. If I could take that aspect of Loki away from him, save him centuries of hiding within the wrong skin, of fear of discovery, I would do so in a heartbeat. I am furious with the Norns for all the hurdles they have given to Loki! Not content with making him stand out in Asgard physically, they have given him a sensitive heart, love for the wrong people, and a second skin that appears at will simply to make life difficult for him. I _am_ angry with…with Gemma, if that is what he wishes to call himself when he is female. I wish for her not to exist, because without her, he would have one less thing to fear.”

Jane shook her head, but wrapped her arms around him. “You don’t have to hate her any more, Thor, really. She’s still Loki, and you guys aren’t in Asgard any more. Loki doesn’t have to hide, and you don’t have to hide her. Please don’t stress her out. Don’t stress yourself out! We’re a really weird group of people, there’s no way we’re going to be judgemental about unimportant things like sexual preference and gender, OK? Just…when you think someone’s going to be mean to Loki - or you - about something, ask me, will you? Or if you don’t want to ask me, if you can’t trust me to hold my counsel, check with JARVIS. Deal?”

He dipped his head to bury his nose in her hair and felt his heart picking up the pieces, mending, and replacing bits he hadn’t even noticed had been broken for centuries, and nodded.

“Great…hey, you know, I think Loki’s a girl right now.” she leaned back and raised her eyebrows at him. “You could go get to know her…or get to know that she’s still the same Loki.”

***

Thor hesitated at the door for a beat before knocking. Loki called “it’s open,” and he pushed the door open. He could see his brother - or maybe his sister would be more appropriate? - lying on her back on the sofa reading, in black jeans and a green silk blouse. As she saw who it was, a flicker of panic shot through her eyes, and she shifted instantly to her male skin, the shirt changing to a loose cotton tee. It burned in his chest, and he wondered how he could have missed the pain and stress he was causing his sibling for so long. Perhaps because he had been so scared himself. He smiled sadly. “You do not have to hide here, Loki.”

She shifted back into her comfortable female skin and looked at him cautiously. “You do not think I should change?”

He sat down on the sofa next to her. “I have had words with my fair Lady Jane, Loki. It seems I have been cruel to you.” He couldn’t stop his voice cracking slightly, and the inside of his nose and eyes tingled.

Loki practically threw herself across the space between them and wrapped him in a hug. That just made the burning of the tears worse. It had been so long since Loki had initiated physical contact, always so afraid of getting too close, even to the people they knew loved them. “Brother, you have never been cruel about this, never.”

“I have not accepted you—“

“You did everything you could to keep me safe. Not once did you look on me with disgust like Sif and Fandral did when they discovered it, and you know that everyone in Asgard would have done much worse than them had they found out. You urged me to hide, not from shame, but from fear for me.”

Thor held her tightly, his arms completely surrounding her, and let the tears fall at last. “I am so sorry, broth…sister. I have never allowed myself to get to know this aspect of you, and I have done you a disservice, trying to pretend it does not exist. Will you allow me to spend time with you as you are?”

She laughed and nodded into his shoulder. “How did banishment and torture lead us to such a place? Who would have thought the behaviour of gods would be looked down upon by mortals?”

Thor pursed his lips and considered. “Most atheists, I believe.” Loki snorted again and pulled back, but only to tuck herself under his arm. “Had I known you would be more accepting of physical contact as a woman I would have imposed myself on your female company earlier,” he said, ruffling her hair. 

She smacked his hand away affectionately. “I shall curl up next to you as a man next time we gather for pizza then, and see if your Aesir sensibilities have been truly exorcised.”

“No you will not, sister. You’ll be too busy crawling into Tony’s lap as either a man or a woman.”

“True.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it! I've actually got a major plot bunny about another fic where Thor _isn't_ understanding at all about his brother's shapeshifting and sexual preferences, so this is me going 'I still love you really, Thor!' Did everyone else notice how calm and happy he looked when he was serving Selvig and Darcy breakfast? And then by the time he comes back in Avengers he's all tense and sanctimonious again? Fucking Asgard!
> 
> Also I have no reason to think from the _movies_ that Asgard is homophobic, and in Marvel-616 comics Loki's genderfluidity is totally accepted in Asgardia, but hey, I wanted to write about bigotry, and in the Norse myths (the Lokasenna I think) Odin is _very_ derogatory about Loki spending time as a woman and bearing children, so that's the angle I usually take.
> 
> Jane briefly refers to Loki as they - that's just because she's talking about Loki in general, encompassing male and female periods. Loki in this fic expresses as either male or female, but I know plenty of other fics where they prefer gender neutral pronouns - that's not the situation here. She prefers she when female and he prefers he when male. I just didn't think 'he-and-she' was appropriate, 'they' sounded better!
> 
> Also Loki's not necessarily more physical when she's female. They're just getting more comfortable with physical affection and letting those walls down.
> 
> I think this counts as over-explaining, really! Hey ho!


	13. Triggers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Loki have The Talk.
> 
> As the name suggests, it's _about_ panic/anxiety attack triggers, and references past rape, but I didn't find it particularly trigger-y to write. It's pretty fluffy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, I've been blocked on this fic for ages! I've recently had a few ideas for new chapters, but I'm still struggling with how to reintroduce Odin. I'm tempted not to, just leave them in peace for a little longer, but I'd quite like to get them some closure. I have a vague idea, it's just not co-operating at the moment!

“So,” said Tony, handing Loki a tumbler of whiskey. “Triggers.”

Loki took a deep breath and stared into the distance, cradling his glass with both hands. He was leaning against the arm of the chair, his legs bent, feet up on the sofa to make an N shape, and he looked half his usual size. Tony’s heart ached. “Uh, hey, do you want me to sit, like, somewhere else for this conversation, or can I put your stupidly heavy feet on my lap?”

Loki looked up at him, eyebrows raised, and pulled him down onto his lap, wrapping his long arms around him and pulling him close. Tony smirked, but closed his eyes and allowed himself to nuzzle into Loki’s neck. He just smelled so damn good! And those long fingers stroking through his hair really shouldn’t be allowed to be so sexy—

Tony cleared his throat and sat up slightly to look at Loki. “Seriously, we need to have this talk.”

Loki sighed. “What do you want to know?”

Tony screwed up his face. He was not built for this kind of political correctness. He was disgustingly wealthy, he’d never had to learn how to be subtle. “I don’t know…what kind of things give you flashbacks?’

Loki turned away. “It is not as if they are consistent. I do not know. One day I can recall events with a level of detachment with no ill effects, while at other times, the…the sound of metal on stone, or clothes tight on my wrists or…” he swallowed, like his lungs had run out of air unexpectedly, and took a drink, shaking his head. “I will get over it, Tony, I just need to stop being so weak.”

“Hey! Hey, don’t you dare say that about yourself. You’re not weak. You’re anything but weak, physically, mentally, emotionally, whatever.” He took Loki’s hand and linked their fingers. “It’s OK to not have this list of things you have to avoid at all costs. It’s probably good that you don’t because from what I’ve heard, those lists tend to grow. But you know that whatever happens, whatever’s going on, you can stop _anything_ , at any time, no reasons needed, OK?”

Loki looked at him, his face completely neutral, his eyes flickering around his face like he was looking for lies, or thinking of situations where that wouldn't apply.”

“I’m not kidding, Bambi,” Tony said, cupping Loki’s chin. “We could be actually _having_ sex, and if you want to stop, we’ll stop, and if you don’t want to start again, we won’t.”

Loki’s eyes flickered to one side and he made an attempt at a laugh. “That would be unfair.”

Tony snorted. “Why? Because I’ll get blue balls or something? Babe, the absence of sex will not cause me to have a panic attack, so, you know, perspective.”

Loki just stared into his whiskey in silence. It hurt to see six foot five of lanky Norse god look so small. Tony played with the cuff of Loki’s shirt, rolled up to just below his elbow, and took a deep breath. “Water,” he said, leaning forward to put his empty glass down.

“What?”

“That’s what sets me off. Especially in my face. So, y’know, no shower sex.” He shuddered at the thought.

It was Loki’s turn to look at him, and he couldn’t hold his gaze. He snorted to himself at the embarrassment. Loki wrapped his long arms around him and pulled him close. “Fingernails,” he admitted.

“That’s fine,” Tony said. “I guess biting’s not your thing either.” Loki shudders and Tony rubbed his bicep. “Hickeys?”

“I have no idea what those are.” Loki sounded amused.

“Uh…they just sound kinda gross when you describe them to be honest,” Tony said. Loki’s neck was _right there_. He leaned back to look at him. “May I?”

Loki didn’t really respond either way, just looked back at him, slightly suspicious.

“Just…tell me to stop if you don’t like it.” 

He moved slowly, curling one hand around the back of Loki’s neck, stroking sensitive skin beneath his ear and feeling the brush of his short hair. He kissed the side of his neck, feeling his pulse under the smooth skin. Loki’s hand twitched around his hips, and he paused, but Loki pulled him closer, and he kissed him again before gently licking and sucking at one spot, trying to keep his teeth away, at least to start with. Loki gasped and cleared his throat. Tony could feel the vibrations through his mouth as he worked the mark to the surface. “I think,” Loki said breathlessly, “that I will be fine with that.”

Tony grinned against his neck, feeling his scruff scrape across Loki’s skin. He touched the mark he’d made, which faded within seconds. Loki smiled and lifted his chin up to kiss him.

They lay together on the sofa. It was wide enough that Tony’s ass had slipped off Loki’s lap against the back of the seat, but he was still mostly lying across Loki’s chest, his head tucked onto his shoulder and his legs slung over Loki’s hips. “The arc reactor,” he said. “I don’t mind you touching it, but it hurts if you press on it. Or…not like it _hurts_ , but it feels weird, I dunno, maybe it’s psychosomatic because I know what—“

“Tony, it’s fine. I will avoid it if you like. I…I used the feel of it, before, because it was different. _He_ had nothing like that, so it reminded me that you were you.”

“I don’t need you to avoid it completely. It’s just pressure - I don’t mind it being touched a little. I mean, not if it’s you…”

Loki smiled and kissed him again, and Tony pushed himself up to deepen it, running his thumb along Loki’s sharp cheekbone. He was hyperaware of his teeth and nails, and caught himself wanting to nip Loki’s lips or scrape through his hair, even though he didn’t think he usually did either of those things. Then Loki broke away and wrapped Tony up into a tight hug, his face pressed against his neck. There was a tension across his shoulders that Tony could feel under his fingers as he returned the hug, and Loki was opening his mouth like he wanted to say something, before shutting it again with a frustrated sigh. “Lokes?”

“I…Tony, I do not know how long—”

“It doesn't matter,” he interrupted. “It doesn’t matter how long.”

Loki shook his head, and Tony could _hear_ his teeth gritting together. “I do not know if I will ever be…if I can ever…” he sighed, and Tony smiled slightly. Talking about sex could be incredibly unsexy. Loki’s hands clenched in his shirt. “I cannot imagine ever…ever being fucked again.” His words came in a rush. “Not as a man, maybe as a woman, but I do not know, I have never been with anyone as a woman—“

“Really? Never? In a thousand years?”

Loki glared at him, his cheeks pink, and Tony thought if the whole situation wasn’t so horrific it would be _adorable_ that he was blushing right now. “Stark, I spent a thousand years _hiding_ the fact that I ever became a woman. Of course not.”

Tony stroked his hair back from his face. “Well, this whole thing goes for you as a man or a woman, so we’ll just see how it pans out, OK?” He grinned suddenly. “I always kinda figured you’d be topping anyway.”

“Topping?”

The grin turned into a smirk. “I figured you’d be doing the fucking, rather than being fucked.”

Loki stared at him. “I am not a prince any more, Tony, and certainly not here…if anything you have the greater…status, I would not—“

“Woah, wait, _status?_ You guys determine who’s going to be top or bottom by status?”

Loki blushed again. “We do not exactly determine anything. It’s not as if it is discussed, but…yes, it is to do with position and status.”

Tony couldn’t help snorting, and then got caught in a fit of giggles. “So there’s like some hierarchy of positions? Like if two lords get it on you have to do it missionary, but if there’s a lord and a prince it’s all about the doggy style?” Tony doubled over laughing. 

Loki wasn’t looking particularly amused, just bright red. “You are ridiculous, Stark.”

Tony wiped the tears from his eyes and sat up, still grinning. “That doesn’t happen here, Reindeer Games,” he chuckled. “Or, well, I don’t know about everyone, but it doesn’t happen in my bed.” He sobered up a bit. “So you never got to actually think about your _preferences?_ It was all predetermined?” Loki shrugged, still looking embarrassed. Tony snuggled back down onto his shoulder and wrapped one arm around his chest. “That’s one of the fun things about relationships, for me. Finding out what people like. It can be a bit intimidating, I guess. Like wondering if someone doesn’t like what you do, or if they find it weird, or if your tastes completely clash…but I’m kinda arrogant enough that I don’t worry about it. If someone doesn’t like what you’re doing, there’s plenty of other things to try.” He slipped his hand under Loki’s shirt and stroked the soft skin along his waist. “I won’t get insulted, you know, if I do something you don’t find sexy. Everyone’s got different sweet spots. But I’ll be pretty damn heartbroken if you _don't_ tell me when something makes you uncomfortable. OK? And I’ll do the same.”

He looked up at Loki, holding his gaze until he nodded. “Thank you, Tony.”

“The fact that you feel the need to thank me for common decency is really quite depressing, Bambi.”

Loki laughed. “Common is not quite the word I would use for anything you do.”

“Maybe not most things,” he smiled. “But in this case, it should be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA - if you _do_ feel uncomfortable doing anything, no matter what stage or whether you've been fine with it before or if it just _suddenly_ became uncomfortable, you're 100% within your rights to tell the other person to stop, and yes, they are actually being an arse if they get pissy about it. Sure, they might need to go have a cold shower, but sex can be absolutely _transcendent_ if you're both enjoying it, and why would anyone settle for less?


	14. Jotunheim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Thor try to visit Jotunheim in disguise, hopefully with less wanton destruction this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, it's been ages since I wrote in this fic! Thank you so much to anyone who's been patiently waiting for it to end, I can't give any idea of how long it'll be because there are so many other multi-chapters I'm working on right now, but I do have a vague outline for 2 more chapters to come, and that might be the end lol! I wanted to do a bit more Trickster Loki here, but I'm not sure I got enough cheeky little git in...anyway, see what you think :)

Loki shoved a handful of raw obsidian chunks in the top of the bag and pulled the drawstring shut. She looked around the room, patted her pockets for knives, tools and high energy food that Bruce had introduced her to, and nodded, running through a checklist in her head. Then she shouldered her bag and got ready to step onto the world tree.

“Loki, have you seen my—Lok! What are you doing?!” 

“Thor,” she sighed, trying to slow her heart rate again. “Do you ever knock?”

“Where were you going?” he snapped, glaring at her. “You were about to jump onto the world tree without telling anyone? Haven’t you learned anything from that time you got kidnapped in Nifleheim?”

“That was four centuries ago, Thor, I have learned a lot since then.”

“Where. Were. You. Going?”

She rolled her eyes and dropped her bag to the floor. “OK. But…just promise you won’t lose your temper.”

He raised an eyebrow but promised nothing of the sort. 

“Fine,” she snorted. “I was going to Jotunheim.”

“What?!”

“You see, this is why I tried to extract a promise from you, Thor, you are so prone to overreaction.”

“Loki, what the Hel are you thinking? Jotunheim? You saw how badly things went the last time we visited their realm, and…oh, Norns, no, Loki, you’re not trying…you’re not trying to destroy—“

“What? No! Don’t be ridiculous, give me some credit for personal growth and admitting my own mistakes, Thor.”

He let out a breath and his shoulder sagged. Loki gritted her teeth. Honestly, no faith. “Fine,” she said again. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“Come. You will see what I have been doing, and it may set your mind to rest. Only…maybe let me do the talking this time, Brother?”

Thor narrowed his eyes and considered for a moment, but, as she knew he would, he held out his hand to her. She smirked and gripped him tight, and in an instant she had warped the fabric of reality around them, and they stepped out into Jotunehim.

“Valkyries’ tits, it is cold!” he yelped.

Loki sniggered and cast a warming spell around him. “Come on. I have cast a glamour on you as well. I doubt anyone would recognise the prince of Asgard, but better safe than sorry, as the mortals say.”

They walked for some time, barely sinking into the tightly packed snow, solidified with a layer of ice. When the faint glow of the town appeared over the horizon she could feel Thor’s shoulders tensing up again. “Relax, Brother dear,” she said in a sing song voice. “We are but simple merchants, and they know me here.”

"Exactly how long have you been coming here? And why?”

“About six months,” she admitted. “And as for why…well, you shall see.”

The first Jotun appeared out of the gloom bent under a load of meat, some sort of ocean creature they had hunted and were bringing for butchery. They startled when they saw Loki. “Hey! It’s Gemma! Gemma’s back everyone!”

Loki grinned and waved, and the call was taken up by the rest of the town. Within moments the town was bustling with chattering, laughing Jotnar, carrying out wares for barter. Loki greeted individuals by name, asking after grandparents and sick relatives, conjuring little illusions for the children. The gloves on her hands allowed her to cultivate a cheerful, tactile persona so different to her own, particularly different from the person she had been on her first fateful visit.

“Who’s your friend?” yelled one of the Jotnar, fiddling with a pouch of gems that Loki had her eye on. 

“Who, this? He’s the crown prince of Asgard.”

Thor’s head snapped to stare at her in horror. It was glorious. Of course, the Jotnar all shrieked with laughter and she patted his shoulder and joined in. “This is my friend Donald from Knowhere,” she grinned. “He wanted to see the work we’ve been doing here.”

The children cheered, and the adults all muttered excitedly. “You’re going to work on it today?”

“Yes, I have some of the minerals I needed,” she nodded. “Take me to it and we shall get started.”

She saw Thor’s inquisitive glances, she could tell he was trying to catch her eye and ask a wordless question, but she deliberately avoided his gaze, answering questions, holding hands with the trail of small Jotnar and getting into a vigorous discussion about the supply and demand of various herbs with a broad shouldered giant. At last they reached the gates of the temple, and the crowd hushed, bowing their heads and tracing their kin lines as they passed between the ruined pillars. The vaulted ceilings were smashed and open to the drifting snow, but their magnificence was still evident, carvings crumbling but fine and detailed. Thor stared around at them in amazement, and to Loki’s surprise, she found pride straightening her spine. This was her heritage, though she’d never admitted it.

The Jotnar fell back as she walked forwards to the plinth on which rested a fur covered case. “Stay back here,” she told Thor, pointing to a space beside an elderly Jotun, one she knew was particularly friendly and would probably ask him all sorts of awkward questions. She climbed the steps and lifted the furs, her motions economical, with none of the reverence of the others. Gemma had no interest in the religion of the event. She was just a merchant, with a service to provide in exchange for goods.

As the glowing stone was revealed a sigh rustled through the crowd. Loki turned her body so that they could see what was happening. She gathered some of the obsidian out of her bag, arranging it like a drystone wall, stacking the pieces so that every slice was aligned perfectly, the conchoidal cleavage patterns forming a ripple shape around the central stone. A few pieces of haematite filled the gaps, and finally, on the top, she laid a cluster of citrine crystals that formed a perfect fan. She had been searching for just such a stone, one that channeled perfectly and would take all her creative, chaotic force and transmute it into pure abundant energy.

As soon as she was sure the gems were all in the perfect position, she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the cold, slightly stagnant air. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she focused on the top of the citrine, hands cupping the pile of gems, and allowed her _seidr_ to flow.

She released the breath slowly, but the flow of magic through her veins was accelerating, rushing into the pile of stones as if it _wanted_ to be there. She resisted the urge to hold it back, instead opening her channels more and encouraging it to leave, letting it go with her blessing. It flowed, she exhaled, and still it flowed. 

She was coming to the end of her breath. Her hands were heating up, her heart beating fast. Her body _ached_ with the furious racing energy screaming out from her, leeching her bones of _seidr_ , and still she knew she could give more. She dug deep into her core, finding the well of energy at the base of her spine, and coaxed more up, out, and into the gem that would replace the Casket of Ancient Winters. Her lungs burned with a lack of oxygen, her veins and nerves and muscles and bones ground and felt like powder under the onslaught of energy being torn from them. 

It is willingly given, she thought, and pushed harder.

Suddenly she was falling, her knees buckling. There were arms around her so hot they were almost blistering her skin and she flinched, reaching forwards to hold herself up on the floor. The room was entirely silent, and when Loki sucked in a breath it was loud, almost shrieking in the quiet.

It was a long moment before she could open her eyes, even longer before she could focus. Her body was entirely drained of energy, and she occupied herself with pulling her gloves back on to hide the trembling in her hands. But even though she could barely hold herself in a kneeling position, she felt euphoric. She had done it! She knew instinctively that this had been enough, that she’d got the formula right, the arrangement…she could hear the singing of the magical artefact beside her, glorious… _happy_.

She looked up at the room and couldn’t help the grin that spread over her face. The Jotnar were staring at her, open mouthed, and a giggle escaped her mouth. Thor was beside her, looking at her in obvious concern. “I’m fine,” she said, and her voice slurred. She giggled again, because she sounded drunk. “I’m fine,” she repeated. “It’s done.”

Every eye turned to the plinth, and suddenly there was a rush of noise, growing like a tide. One of the Jotnar she assumed was akin to a priest stumbled up the steps and reached out for the pile of gems with trembling hands.

“Dust off the powder,” she said, holding on to Thor to rise to her feet. Her knees wobbled, but she could feel her strength returning slowly. The excitement of what she’d just done was speeding the recovery process, and she knew her _seidr_ would return given time and food. “The crystals I placed around it have crumbled, but they have done their job. You shall see.”

The Jotun leaned close to the plinth and, closing his eyes reverently, he blew on the pile. The obsidian and citrine, even the heavy haematite were nothing but a fine ash, and fluttered away in swirling eddies, caught in the weak sunlight filtering through the broken temple roof. They left uncovered a stone the size of Loki’s fist, glowing and pulsing with a living, green power, energy curling inside like gold flecks suspended in one of Tony’s expensive vodkas. Loki's smile was a gleeful slash across her face. The Jotun cupped the stone gently, and turned. His eyes were wide, almost afraid. He held it out to the rest of the people. “The heart of Jotunheim has been returned.”

The noise was deafening. Ullulating and stamping and cheering. A song started in one corner of the room and was taken up by the rest of the temple, harmonies weaving through the group. It brought tears to Loki’s eyes that she would deny to her dying day, a strange combination of exotic and somehow deeply familiar.

Eventually the old Jotun, Gerdr, shouted at some of the others, and beckoned Loki and Thor down the stairs and through the crowd. They were led to a smaller building back outside the temple gates, and about a third of the Jotnar followed, chattering excitedly. Loki tried to follow and reply to any questions, but she was finding it difficult to use her brain, and was deeply relieved when they sat her down on a pile of furs. Food was brought and laid out in front of her, and she ate and smiled and forced her eyes open, and leaned on her brother.

Night was falling by the time Thor shook Loki awake again. “Do you feel well enough to return us, Loki?”

She yawned and rubbed her eyes. Thor was beginning to shiver, and she felt guilty at once. The warming spell had probably started to wear off as the temperature dropped and her _seidr_ was so depleted. She nodded. “I can get us back to…to where we need to go.”

“Jotunheim is forever in your debt.” A Jotun she didn’t recognise was sitting opposite her, their legs crossed and hands folded on their lap. “But I trust these gifts will go some way to meeting your requested payment?”

He gestured to a fur laden with jewels and fine scrimshaw. Loki cast a discerning eye over it, hummed, and nodded at last. The Jotun sagged a little in relief. “Thank you. The priests are already saying they believe the currents have started to shift in the deep waters, and the River of Blood is flowing once more beneath the permafrost.”

Thor looked unnerved, and Loki smirked. “It is not actual blood,” she nudged him. “There is an algae growing in the water that gives it a deep purple colour that looks like Jotun blood. It is said to be very nutrient rich.”

The Jotun nodded. “There are scrolls that speak of the harvests we used to gather before the Casket was taken from us. This heart, we can see it has a different feel to it. More laughter, less predictability, but it seems to have been accepted by the realm.” His brow crinkled, shifting his kin lines. “Only a true child of Jotunheim could have produced such a wonder.”

Loki froze in running her fingers through the gems on the fur. She looked up, eyes snapping between Thor and the Jotun, panic rising. How had they recognised her? She could not fight like this, could not prevent them from taking revenge, and if they tried to kill her, surely they would kill Thor as well.

“Be at peace, child of Laufey,” the Jotun said, holding their hands out. Loki staggered back, stumbling onto the floor, and Thor lifted her up. He was facing her, his face creased in confusion as she panicked. Why wasn’t he facing the danger? Why was he turning his back to the giant who would kill him with a single blow?

“Loki,” said Thor, shaking her gently. “Loki, what is the matter? Has your _seidr_ not come back? Are you ill?”

“Stay back,” she said, her voice shaking. “Stay back, I can still…still…"

“We mean you no harm,” the Jotun said, standing now so they towered above her, making the panic reach deafening levels. They were lying, of course they were lying, they knew what she had done, they knew she had nearly destroyed Jotunheim, and no matter what she could ever do in penance they would kill her, and Thor, and no-one would ever know. Her breath was coming faster, and she dug deep for her _seidr_ , only to find a weak trickle which could barely produce a magelight.

Then cold hands were on her temples, and a cool, calm blanket seemed to fall over her, cutting her off from her panic. She could still see Thor’s worried face, and the Jotun’s outstretched hands, and now the older Jotun who had taken them for food and rest. “There now,” they said, satisfied. “Feeling better, little one?”

Loki nodded. Why had she been panicking again? Everything was fine, of course it was!

“Right. Now, I shall retract the calming spell slowly, and you shall tell old Gerdr what the problem is, hmm?”

Loki nodded again. Slowly the blanket retreated, not entirely, and she was able to control her breathing as more awareness returned. 

“What seems to be the problem then, my dear?”

“You all know who I am,” she said. “I know you will have to kill me now.”

Gerdr raised their eyebrow. “Will we? Well, that would be inconvenient. Such mess on my nice clean floors!”

Loki shrugged. “I am responsible for the Bifrost damage. It is only to be expected.”

“But you will not, really, will you, Gerdr?” Thor asked quickly, his arms around Loki’s shoulders. They felt nice and heavy, adding to the general blanketed feeling she was still enjoying.

“I think we will probably keep you around a little longer,” Gerdr said, tapping a finger to their chin. “What say you, your majesty?” she asked the other Jotun.

They shook their head violently. "We have no intention of killing you, Loki,” they said. “Not now you have returned the heart to Jotunheim. Your penance is served, more than served. In fact, we can consider the debt of the Allfather paid as well.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Helblindi,” said Gerdr, scrunching their face up. 

Thor looked worried. "You would not go to war with Asgard again, though, would you?”

Both Jotnar looked horrified. “And risk another thousand years of famine? Indeed not,” said Helblindi.

“Do you feel calm now, little Loki?” Gerdr asked, patting her on the head.

“Much better, now I do not believe I am about to die,” said Loki cheerfully. 

“Then I shall remove the last of the spell,” they said, and the blanket retreated fully. 

Loki took a deep breath, full awareness slightly disconcerting. She flickered her eyes between the two Jotnar and Thor. “Well,” she said. “That was…shall we say it was a load off my mind? How did you know?” 

Thor frowned. "Your Aesir glamour disappeared as you were making the heart. I...I thought you knew." He held out his hands, blistered with frostbite, and Loki winced to see them. "It's fine," he assured her. He laughed. "Helblindi and I have been discussing all that has passed since my last visit here. We have set a price for my own weregild."

Her eyebrows were almost hidden in her red tipped hair, but she clapped her hands together to hide her amazement. “Well. This is all very...diplomatic. If that is all, then I think I shall take my payment and return home.

“Loki,” grumbled Thor. “Are you really going to take all that payment? What do you need it for now you no longer need to maintain the illusion of a simple merchant?”

Loki groaned and rolled her eyes. “You are so boring, Thor! Look at it all, it is so pretty!”

He just raised both eyebrows and tapped a foot on the floor.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “Gift it to the orphans charity, in that case,” she said, waving an arm.

Gerdr smirked. “I am sure it will be as much appreciated as all the other payments you have gifted them,” they said. 

Loki pretended she wasn’t blushing, and grabbed Thor’s arm, returning them to the tower, and her much missed bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr at [Gold-From-Straw](https://goldfromstraw.tumblr.com/) ^_^


	15. Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Loki are sweet, Natasha is feeling some Mamma Bear instincts, Odin is an unmitigated bastard, and our final surprise visitor is a BAMF.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. God. It's been nine months. Like, I could have had another BABY in that time?! I didn't, thankfully, but I could have. I'm so sorry! I've finally worked out how I'm going to end this story, and get a couple of the scenes that some people requested in there. You'll notice I've got a final number of chapters now, so what I'm going to do is still keep this vaguely open to requests, so that whenever I feel the need to write Avengers Tower Flangst I'll add some more to this story, but this chapter and the next will really be the only plot I've got planned. I can always add a new chapter onto a completed story though! I hope to get the next chapter up in a week or so, but this arc will be resolved very soon. Thank you to anyone who's still actually interested in this! And if you're new to this... well, I'm not usually like this with stories! I usually finish them BEFORE I post lol!

Natasha poured her second cup of coffee and added a shot of hazelnut to it before leaning back against the counter, wrapping her fingers around the porcelain. It had been a quiet week. They’d even managed to catch up on their paperwork, and Steve was talking about taking some time to travel around the country on his vintage bike. 

The door hushed open and Tony walked in wearing plaid pyjama bottoms and an Iron Maiden t-shirt. Natasha smirked at his bed head. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Hey,” he yawned, and poked the coffee machine.

Natasha watched him smile at the black liquid, then smile at the sugar bowl, and at the pot of blueberry yoghurt he pulled out of the fridge. “Ha!” she said, and poked gleefully at the hickey on his collarbone. “You guys had sex.”

Tony blushed. Tony freaking Stark’s Italian complexion went tomato red to the roots of his hair and Natasha almost squealed, it was the cutest damn thing. “What?” he stuttered. “Shut up.”

“You’re _blushing_ though!”

“I am not.”

“Oh my god, Tony, you absolutely are.” She nudged him. “I’m happy for you, that’s all. So you got your shit together and talked, huh?”

He snorted. “Oh, we already did that ages ago. But... we’ve been taking it slow, you know. It’s not like... there’s no rush. I would have been fine with...” He trailed off, and she hadn’t thought it was possible for him to get redder but he did, ducking his head to drink his coffee.

“You’re so gone for him, aren’t you?”

He bit his lip. Natasha couldn’t bear it, she pulled him into a tight, one-armed hug. “That’s so fucking adorable, Tony.”

“Shut _up_ ,” he grumbled.

“I’m not kidding. You guys deserve to be happy.” She let him go and sipped her coffee again. “So... do you love him?”

His breath rushed out of him, and she could read the truth from the little smile he was trying to hide under his beard. He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Uh...”

“You do,” she said, her voice much softer. “You’re allowed to, you know.”

He looked up at her, all that vulnerability he usually hid under sarcasm and a smart mouth suddenly bare for her, and she felt a weight of responsibility settle warm in her chest. It was her job to winkle this sort of stuff out of the most powerful men in the world, and Tony had been no exception. For him now to offer it up to her... she knew what a huge gesture of trust this was. She squeezed his arm. “I’m so happy for you. Have you told him?”

The red flared across his cheekbones again and he nodded down into his coffee. “A few days ago. She... she said it back too.” His shoulders were rounded, and when he looked up at her she saw the fear that mixed with the happiness. She wasn’t sure what it was, exactly. Fear he didn’t deserve it, fear he wasn’t good enough, fear that it would end. When Tony let himself love someone, it was a forever thing. She could tell he still adored Pepper, and he’d worshiped Rhodes consistently since his teenage years. Natasha got the impression that Loki was exactly the same.

The door slipped open again, and Loki himself joined them. Natasha watched Tony’s expression soften just to look at his boyfriend, how he leaned slightly towards him like a plant when he brushed his fingers up Tony’s arm and kissed his cheek. “Good morning, Natasha.”

She didn’t have a chance to reply. The sky suddenly darkened, and the tower trembled under the force of _something_ , a great rumbling sound vibrating through their feet. “Woah, what the hell’s going on, JARV?” Tony yelled.

“We seem to have an anomalous atmospheric disturbance directly above the tower, sir,” JARVIS replied, voice raised but unflappable. “The data I’m collecting doesn’t match... ah, excuse me, no. There have been incidences before, in New Mexico.”

“The Bifrost.” Loki’s voice was soft, almost trembling. Natasha’s gaze snapped to him, narrowed. He would usually have shifted into his armour at the first sign of trouble, but now he stood, his eyes unfocused, still in his soft sleep clothes. As she watched, he took a deep breath and looked up at her, hiding his haunted expression under a cold mask, and shifted into an elaborate green and black armour, one she hadn’t seen before.

Feet thundered up the stairs, and Thor and Steve burst into the room, closely followed by the others. “Loki!” Thor shouted. His eyes were terrified, and he stopped short to see his brother dressed like that. “No, Loki, you cannot - we must flee. Steve has offered to stall them, we must go, now.”

“I will not—“

“No, Lokes, if they’re coming for you, go. We’ll be able to stop them here long enough for you guys to get to safety.”

“I will not leave you,” he said, turning a furious gaze on Tony. “I will never leave you, Tony, you cannot believe I would.”

“I need you to!” Tony said, gripping him above the elbows. “I need you to be safe, you hear?”

“And do I not need the same thing? I will not have you fight without me there to protect you.”

“Shit, let’s all run,” Clint said, running his hands through his hair. “I mean, if Norse Gods are planning on running, I’m up for the good old strategic retreat.”

“No,” said Loki, straightening his back and looking around at all of them. “To run is to be pursued, and that brings even more danger to your door. It would also leave your world less protected, and none of us will allow that. No.” He looked to Thor. “Brother, we stand.”

Thor clasped Loki’s neck and pressed their foreheads together, squeezing his eyes shut. “Aye, Brother. Then we stand together. To the roof.”

***

The team marched to the roof as the storm reached its peak, striking the tower and testing its foundations. Tony grumbled into his faceplate as the suit formed around him. 

When the doors opened onto the helipad, Natasha kept her face perfectly controlled, only allowing the micro expressions she wanted to project to cross her lips and the skin around her eyes. A great circle of runes was burned into the concrete, matching the ones she’d seen from the files on the New Mexico event. In the centre of the runes stood a group of guards - some of whom she also recognised from the files - and a silver-haired man with an eyepatch and a great golden spear.

“Thor,” he said, and his voice, while not raised, carried clearly across the helipad. The authority in it almost physically bent her knees. She softened them to absorb the pressure, and stopped beside Clint in an at-ease stance. 

Steve walked forward to meet him. “King Odin, I presume?”

Odin glanced at him with the most genteel of sneers, and looked straight past him. “Thor, my son, what is the meaning of this? You had orders to return with your brother and the Tesseract to Asgard as soon as the skirmish had ended, and yet we find you dallying with the mortals?”

“Father, we could not use the tesseract,” said Thor, and Natasha could almost see the sweat dripping off his temples. He was the world’s worst liar, but right now it looked like he was the only one with any chance. “The mortals, and the organisation SHIELD have need of it.”

Odin scoffed. “A goat has no need of a grimoire. Your time here has clearly softened you. Perhaps banishment to Muspelheim would have been a better choice in the first place.”

“Your dad’s charming,” said Tony, loudly enough for the Asgardians to hear. “I’ll cancel the tea party, don’t suppose he’d want to be entertained by goats.”

Thor looked embarrassed, glancing around at the other Avengers. “Father, the mortals have come so far since we commonly travelled to Midgard. Will you not meet with their leaders?”

“I have no interest in discussions, Thor,” he snapped. “I have come to bring the war criminal Loki to justice now that the Bifrost has been returned to its full function. Or do you wish to see him pardoned of all his crimes just because he was your playmate as a child?”

Thor’s jaw dropped. “He was no mere playmate,” he said, incredulous. “He is my brother, and always has been.”

“He is the child of a monster!” Odin roared. “Had I not taken him, he would have died, frozen on a rock. And he chooses to repay me by embarrassing Asgard in every way?” He shook his head. “It is enough. Time to end this foolish charade. It was an experiment that has failed, and must be put to rest.”

Natasha spared a quick glance for Loki, whose fingers were trembling, almost imperceptibly. He still stood as a statue, staring at his father impassively. He’d be fine, she thought, glancing at the others. It was the others who might be a problem, leaping to his defence when he could easily compartmentalise if left alone. 

“Hey, if you don’t want the experiment, we’ll keep him,” Tony said, mock casually. “One man’s trash is another’s treasure and all.” Natasha suppressed a twitch of a smile. At least Tony was dealing with it better than could be expected.

Odin actually turned to look at him. “You would like to ‘keep him’, mortal? Like a pet?” He snorted and glanced at Loki. “An intractable, oversensitive cat. Perhaps that would be appropriate, but he has crimes for which to answer.”

“What crimes he committed on Earth have been officially pardoned, your highness,” said Phil, consulting his StarkPad. Natasha knew he would have Fury on speakerphone, silent but preparing for everything in real time. “We appreciate you sending Thor to assist us, we couldn’t have broken the mind control without him, and we wouldn’t have been able to stop the invasion without Loki and Thor’s help.”

“And reparations have been made to Jotunheim - Loki has been pardoned by the new king himself,” Thor added quickly.

“Crimes against Midgard and Jotunheim are nothing but crimes against a herd of beasts. I refer to those committed when he occupied the throne of Asgard. Attempted fratricide, murder, destruction of the Bifrost and treason.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” yelled Darcy from the back of the group, and Natasha almost groaned. She had less subtlety than even Tony, and wasn’t surrounded by a gold titanium alloy when baiting space gods. “Isn’t Asgard, like, an absolute monarchy? And when Loki did all those things, he was the rightful king, wasn’t he - so everything he did was within the law? Not that that’s a great system, man, I mean talk about being open to abuse.”

Odin smiled at Loki, and that was more terrifying than all his sneering and insults. “Ah, but you knew differently, did you not, boy? A Frost Giant can never sit on the throne of Asgard.” Loki’s face paled, his fingers spasming into fists, and Natasha tensed her muscles, ready to leap into action. “You are not the son of Odin. Therefore your ascension to the throne was unlawful.”

“And what of matrilineal inheritance?” 

The Avengers and Asgardians all turned as one to the new voice. Even the Asgardian guards startled to see the woman in a golden dress who’d materialised among them, brushing an elegant cowl back from her hair. “Mother!” cried Thor. She smiled at him, but turned her sharp gaze to Odin.

“What are you doing here, Frigga?” he asked, and Natasha made a mental note of how he reined his authority in to speak to her. This woman had a lot of power.

“I have come to ensure my son receives justice,” she said, and walked straight to Loki, stopping and turning in front of him as if she was planning on shielding him with her own body.

“He is no more your son than mine,” Odin scoffed. “I took him from the battlefield and—“

“And I took him into my heart,” she said coldly. “As an adoptive _parent_ is wont to do.”

“That means nothing to the ascension of the throne. Loki took Gungnir unlawfully and used the power to commit unforgivable crimes upon our family and reputation.”

"There was nothing unlawful about it, husband,” she said with a pleasant smile. “An adoption by blood and magic is as tight a bond as that of birth.”

Odin froze almost imperceptibly for a second. He narrowed his eyes at her. “The adoption was never formalised.”

“Perhaps not by you.”

There was silence, broken only by the distant sounds of New York, and the whistling of the wind around them. Natasha didn’t even dare to move to shift a strand of hair out of her face.

“What have you done, Frigga?”

“What needed to be done,” she said just as softly. “For many years I tried to deny the evidence of my own eyes, hoping that you would love Loki just as dearly as I did. But when it became clear that not only did you have no true feeling for him, but that you never intended on finalising his lineage, I knew I would have to do so myself. Loki was indeed third in line to the throne, but only on his mother’s side. All that he did as king of Asgard was lawful, for he was, at the time, the law.”

The silence fell once more, and Natasha shifted this time, concerned at the pure fury pouring off Odin in waves. Frigga held her hand out to Tony. “Anthony Stark, would you grant us the use of a room so that my husband and I may discuss the politics of this situation? Your hospitality has been much appreciated thus far, and the continuation will be considered a great favour to me.”

“Uh… sure… your majesty? If you’d all come this way?” Natasha had never heard Tony sound so flustered, but then, meeting the parents this way wasn’t exactly ideal. Frigga inclined her head to him and turned her back on Odin, walking into the tower with her head held high. Odin, with just a flicker of tension around his good eye and a slight tightening of his fist on the spear, followed.

“You,” he said to four of the guards. “Remain with the mortals, the prince, and the accused. The rest of you, with me.”

Natasha caught Steve’s eye, returning his slight eyebrow raise. This was going to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: The Warriors Four get a bit of Loki-related culture shock!


	16. Treasured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, this chapter took so long to write because I'm trying to snatch moments in between the stupid amounts of work I've got right now! Deadlines at the end of this month and the next... yaaay. But I'm still hoping to get another chapter up next week! I hope this doesn't come across as too disjointed!

Loki kept it together as he walked with the group back into the common area. Everyone was silent, Avengers and Warriors both, but still he struggled to compartmentalise everything. Odin’s words, over-sensitive, criminal, playmate, all rebounded in his mind in a mocking refrain, and he twitched his fist shut over and over.

Tony deactivated his armour with a gesture and Loki derived a moment of satisfaction from Volstagg’s flinch as the metal retracted and flew back into storage. “Anyone want a drink? I feel like we need a drink. Hey, Last Samurai, Warrior Princess Barbie, Don Quixote, Obelix, make yourselves comfortable. Don’t... make yourselves at home though, still want you guys gone, but... anyway, drinks.”

The warriors looked at each other as he stalked past them into the kitchenette. Steve’s lips twitched, but he played the good host and gestured to the seating area. Clint jumped up onto a bare bookshelf and let one leg swing as he caressed his bow, keeping his blue eyes fixed on the Aesir.

They, however, continued to stare at Loki.

“I shall help Tony with the drinks,” he said, and was proud of the way his voice didn’t shake.

“You ok?” Tony murmured as he found the mead in Thor’s cupboard. Loki nodded, but kept his eyes averted. “Hey,” said Tony, uncharacteristically hesitant. “I didn’t... make it worse, did I?”

Loki snorted. “You could hardly make that worse.”

“Yeah... I mean... I didn’t like, hurt your feelings? With the whole, trash and treasure thing? Cos you know the only thing you are is treasure, right? I just—“

“Tony,” he said, soft but firm, and turned to face him at last. “I know.” He smiled as Tony sagged ever so slightly in relief. “You and I, our words are important in very similar ways. I would be trash to a million kings if it meant I was treasured by you.”

Tony’s face split into a full grin and he chuckled as he poured the golden liquor into another mug. “Damn, you’re smooth, babe.”

“How do you want to play this, Loki?” asked Bruce, wandering in and leaning his hip on the counter. He kept his eyes on the warriors, arms crossed, watching their backs as they hid their faces. “Fit in or stand out?”

“I do not know what you mean?” he admitted. It struck him suddenly that he would never have shown such open weakness in the presence of his past companions, and a warm fondness, lined with sharp anxiety, flooded his veins. 

“I mean, do you want us to show them how much you mean to all of us?” He turned his earnest brown eyes on Loki. “I think we all want to rub it in their faces after that speech of Odin’s. I mean, you know me. I’m the least confrontational of all of you guys when I’m not green. But I want to just...” he clenched his fist and shook his head, looking back over at the warriors. “I want to show them how much they’re missing.”

Loki opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. He blinked. Then laughed and shook his head, looking down at the counter. “You all...” He couldn’t finish. _You honour me more than I deserve,_ he thought, but knew they would never let him say it. “Bruce, the king of Asgard is in talks with my mother about my fate as a traitor. There are four warriors out there who rival my brother for strength, and four more in the conference room chosen as my f- as the king’s personal guard. Please, do not escalate the situation.”

“You forget, brother, that your mother is the queen of Asgard. Have you known of any time when she has put her foot down and not worn fath- I mean—“

Loki turned to Thor. “Thor, he is still your father, I take no offence when you call him such.”

Thor looked at his feet. “I shall take the offence for you, then,” he said softly. “For how can my father not be the father of my brother?” He kissed Loki on the forehead and took the tray of mugs. “Your place with us is assured. Do not forget who fights by your side, and loves you unconditionally.”

Bruce and Thor left, and Loki stood unmoving, trying to control the tears that swelled at his brother’s words. Tony took his elbow, rubbing softly with his thumb. “C’mon, babe. Let’s go rub it in their faces.”

They gathered drinks for the Avengers and handed them out to their team mates. Loki gave his last can of Sprite to Clint, who looped an arm around his neck almost possessively, holding Sif’s eye as he drank.

Silence fell, broken only by the overloud sounds of drinking. Loki felt the tension building and building.

Sif was the first to break it, almost squirming for control until the words burst from her. “Thor, what is the meaning of this? How could you protect him after all he’s done?”

Loki looked away, because she had a point. Thor just sighed. “He is my brother, Sif.”

“He tried to kill you, kill all of us!”

“You know there were extenuating circumstances!”

“He had you banished, just so he could take the throne for himself,” said Hogun. He had a habit of unleashing the most damning of statements in an utterly emotionless voice, and it always made Loki’s temper flare, how no-one could see the manipulation.

“I had no intention of getting Thor banished,” he snapped. He bit his tongue, but it was too late. He had been determined not to rise to anything they said, but a year with the mortals had been enough to tear down all his walls, expose every festering vulnerability. He took a deep breath. “I made terrible choices. And then compounded them by more terrible choices. I am sorry, for Jotunheim, for Puerto Antigua, the Destroyer. I understand why you would not want Thor to give me a second chance, but... he has.” Loki spread his hands. “And I will not waste it. You have my word.”

Volstagg snorted and shook his head. “What does the word of a liar mean? We all know you, Loki, even you must admit you have no sense of honour.”

“Now, come on,” said Steve, frowning. “I don’t think that’s fair at all, Loki’s been an invaluable member of our team, he’s always got our back. And that’s without the whole Chitauri thing - he could have done the easy thing and just agreed to lead them, not like he knew any of us. But he deliberately sabotaged their efforts and we had a chance to band together to stop them because of him.”

“Ah yes,” Fandral chuckled. “We have heard of your little deception. 

“Little deception?” Steve’s voice pitched high. “That little deception nearly killed him and saved an entire planet!”

“And had his jealousy of Thor not driven him to treachery, he would not have ended up in the clutches of the Mad Titan, and your world would not have been endangered,” said Hogan sharply, still glaring at Loki.

“Is everyone to know the whole story? Indeed, Odin’s modus operandi has changed from constant obfuscation.”

“Of course Asgard knows! We needed an explanation for the loss of our Crown Prince - a second time.”

Thor stood at that. “He knew that Loki had been with Thanos? This whole time?”

Sif blinked. “Well, yes, Thor, my brother... Heimdall sees all, you know this. And Loki was not hiding, then, as he usually does.”

Thor’s face crumpled in grief and he turned to Loki. “I believed you lost beyond the reach of Heimdall’s sight. You know, had I discovered anything about you, I would have come for you—“

“Thor!” He held out his hands, placating. “Of course I know that, brother.”

“I asked him constantly - he said to my face he could not see you, had heard nothing of your whereabouts... Loki, I am so sorry.”

“Really, Thor, it matters not.” But his words warmed Loki anyway. It was one thing to have given up on his father and people, and another to have someone still upset on his behalf. “I have long suspected that Odin knew more than he shared with you. And Heimdall can be sworn to secrecy.”

“I am sure he was only doing what was best for you,” said Volstagg, peering hopefully into his mug.

“Don’t worry, babe,” said Darcy, coming up behind him with Pepper to hand out a plate of sandwiches. “They’re just jealous because they lost their chance with you.” She leaned on him and eyed up the Aesir, managing to look both smug and threatening. Or at least as much as a tiny bespectacled mortal woman can.

Sif narrowed her eyes, so Loki spoke first, wishing he had any faith in his actions. “I am sorry,” he said, trying to meet the eyes of each warrior. “I would say I wish I had done differently, but I do not think I could have avoided it. I do not think I could have made one decision, knowing only what I knew then, that would have led to a happy end for all of us, and I cannot regret where it has brought me. But even so, I am truly sorry for putting your lives in danger.”

“You think your apology means anything—“

“No, I do not. I do not expect your forgiveness, that is not why I apologise. But it is the truth, and I wanted you to know.”

She clenched her jaw at him a moment. Then a smile crept over her face. “My lady,” she said, turning to Darcy. “Since we are discussing the truth, I believe you should know that this… creature is no man. I am sorry, Thor, I know you have wanted to keep Loki’s dishonour a secret, but that time is past. If these mortals will not recognise his sins as a warrior—“

“Oh, blah blah,” Darcy interrupted. “C’mon dude, that’s old news. We all know Loki sometimes turns into a lady, and she’s just as hot then as he is now. Anyway. I’m not the one you should be bitchin’ to, not that I wouldn’t totally tap that. But his boyfriend’s over there.” She pointed to Tony and sighed. “So Darcy stays thirsty.”

Loki wasn't sure whether to laugh or run for the hills. Tony looked completely unconcerned, just pausing whatever he was doing on his tablet to nod and wink. Natasha filled the silence. “I find it interesting that you’re so disgusted by Loki being a woman. I would have thought you’d want to support a sister in such a male dominated society - Thor’s told me you’re one of the only women warriors on Asgard?” She shrugged elegantly. “Seems like you could use a little solidarity.”

Sif opened and shut her mouth, looking as if the ground had been torn out from under her feet, but she never got to respond. Just then the doors opened, and Odin emerged, storm clouds in his eyes and Frigga and the rest of the Aesir at his heels. “We are leaving. The Frost Giant stays.”

“My lord!” The warriors leaped to their feet, Hogun and Sif both with argument on their tongue. Odin, however, made a wordless snarl of dismissal that made Loki flinch, unfamiliar with it being aimed anywhere but at himself.

“Thor,” said Odin, barely looking at him. “We are leaving.”

“Father,” he said as he stood. “I cannot. I have made a life here, at least... so long as my welcome lasts.”

Odin turned to stare at him fully. “Know this”, He said softly. “I have no immediate need of an heir. I will not hesitate to strike you from my lineage should you refuse to take up your responsibilities. You have courted my displeasure for too long.”

Loki gasped. “Thor, you must!”

But Thor shook his head, holding Odin’s gaze and standing tall. “Indeed, I must not. I cannot condone such methods, not now I have learned the correct way to treat those unlike myself.”

“But you must lead Asgard!”

“No, Loki,” he said, and Loki blinked to hear the steel and calm assurance in his brother’s voice. “I would rather be a good man than a great king. And I believe under Odin’s tutelage I would fail to become either one.”

“So be it,” said Odin, voice low and soft with menace. “You are no longer my son. I will allow you some time to bid farewell to your erstwhile mother, and then you are banished from Asgard for the rest of your natural life. Guards! We return forthwith!”

He swept out of the room, and seemed to take all the air with him. Loki had to gather his energy, haul his muscles to move, before he could march across the floor and shove his brother backwards. “What did you do that for you idiot? Why would you do that? How could you turn your back on your birthright?” He shoved him back, time and time again, and Thor rocked with the impact, his face gentle. How _dare_ he? Loki grabbed his shoulders and shook him, furious. How _dare_ he ruin his life further for someone who did nothing to deserve it?

“Loki,” Thor said softly, raising his hands to clasp Loki’s wrists. “Loki, it’s OK.” He moved his hands to Loki’s shoulder, clasping at the junction with his neck, and pulled him in. Loki had no more strength to resist, and leaned his head against his brother’s. He noticed the tears falling from his chin, and closed his eyes, pressing close as Thor shifted to embrace him.

“My boys,” said a voice behind him, and he froze before turning, wiping his face. His mother stood, hands clasped in front of her, and it struck him like his brother’s lightning how much he’d missed that smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Frigga's POV!


	17. Victory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... actually not sure I have anything more to say in this story! Oh my god, it might be over! I have a couple of other little scenes, but nothing that has anything to do with any sort of plot or anything, just fluff, and hopefully I'll be able to add those, but I'm officially marking this as finished because essentially it is? They haven't got anything hanging over their heads any more (I am definitely not dealing with Thanos. Who is that? What are you talking about? I don't know him. He's imprisoned. He's dead - no, he's... stuck in some mud). Thank you so much for your patience! I hope you like Frigga being a badass, I certainly enjoyed writing her and tackling some of the hypocrisy and narcissism that's always evident in MCU Odin's characterisation!

Frigga felt the adrenaline rise in her blood as she followed her husband into the mortal’s conference room. With a tiny nod to her, Agent Coulson placed the slim tablet on the table and retreated, closing the door behind her, the Allfather, and their guards. 

“Frigga,” he said, his voice as steel-lined as it always was in his dealings with diplomats and his second son. “I demand to know the meaning of this behaviour.”

“If you will not listen to reason, husband…”

“Listening to reason is one thing entirely, and you know you have my ear at any other time. But to present a disunited front to a clan of simple-minded mortals? This is unlike you. You have always been a consummate diplomat.”

Frigga snorted and dropped her facade of patience. “Do not treat me as some vassal or disappointing apprentice. You know very well what has driven me to these ends.”

“Loki,” he growled.

“Indeed, Loki. Your son. Or, as you have made clear, my son alone.”

“He has never been your son. He is but a political prisoner who has been treated extraordinarily well, and has repaid such treatment with dishonour and treachery!”

Frigga did not allow the pain in her heart to show on her face. How had she let things get so far? “He is not a tool, Odin, but a young man, a prince, of whom you should be proud. He has forsaken his birthright—“

“His birthright was to die as a child, abandoned on a rock!” Odin roared. “It was I who saved him from such a fate, who brought him to not only safety but a life of opulence. But of course, I should have known better than to expect loyalty from a Frost Giant.”

Frigga gritted her teeth. “Loyalty is earned by more than a single act carried out in secret.”

“Indeed, but it is usually expected of a son towards his father!”

Odin’s hypocrisy had long driven Frigga to circular arguments, and with an effort, she suppressed the expression of surprise that she longed to make, that suddenly Odin called Loki ‘son’ once more. “That sort of blind loyalty is what leads misguided young men to attack another realm, having learned to demand absolute obedience from their subject at their father’s knee. You cannot have it both ways, Odin!”

“And now you would have that attack go unpunished?” he demanded, as if seeing a weakness at which to strike. “You dare to speak for the Jotun, say that the attacker of their world should be allowed to frolic in freedom with his new pets rather than serve time for his attempted destruction of their entire realm?”

“I had been referencing Thor’s invasion, but now that you mention it…” Frigga worked quickly, not sure when she would get a better opening. With a gesture, one of her handmaidens brought forth the prepared anchor for the communication portal, and Frigga opened it with a burst of magic. “Helblindi, can you hear me?”

The Jotun king appeared in the portal, only his chest and head in view, and behind him, an entire court, arms clasped in respect and apprehension. “I see you, Queen Frigga. Well met.”

“Well met, indeed.” She stepped back so Odin was in view, and saw him straighten and apply his regal mask, face impassive. “I received your communique and was delighted to hear of the return of your people’s fortune.”

Helblindi bowed his head, as they had rehearsed. “Indeed, your majesty. It is my deep pleasure to report that the replacement Casket is working better than any of us could ever have expected.”

Frigga noticed the sudden tension almost radiating from Odin in sharp spikes, and offered up a desperate prayer to the Norns, but Helblindi was as talented a wordsmith and showman as his brother. He stepped aside to show the green-blue artefact glowing at the centre of the great temple, surrounded by a people who looked, already, so much healthier than they had done the last many centuries. “When we received word that the Casket of Ancient Winters had been lost, we were in despair. And then, to hear that you, Odin Allfather, were sending your own two sons to bring succour to our people and to repair the damage they had wrought! It was a balm to freeze many a heart molten in grief. This replacement has already done so much for our world, and will surely stand as a symbol of peace between our two great realms for millennia to come. I look forward to resuming diplomatic exchanges and trade in the next few months ahead.”

Frigga did not allow her smile to change in quality in any way, even though she wanted to bark an hysterical laugh at the Jotun king’s audacity, sneaking in that last statement that they had not discussed. She felt pride glow in her heart. This Helblindi may be young, but he would be no toadying fool, and he would grasp everything he could for the good of his people. 

If Odin did not call their bluff, and declare outright war for their deception.

When Odin smiled through gritted teeth and inclined his head graciously, Frigga nearly wept in relief. “I am glad to see our reparations have been well received. Let us walk together towards a more peaceful relationship between our two great lands as once we did, and put the foolishness of the war behind us where it belongs.”

At his words, the Jotun court raised their hands and ululated in joy. Helblindi’s face split into a genuine smile that made Frigga’s heart ache. He looked so much like her Loki in one of his rare unguarded moments.

As the final platitudes were exchanged, and the portal closed, Frigga took a moment to savour the tentative victory before turning to face Odin again. He looked at her, expression blank, and she felt the anxiety of a young bride still battling an arrangement. She straightened her back, and smiled instead of cringing. She would win this time. “It appears there is no crime to punish.”

He stood in silence for a moment. “Leave us,” he said softly to the Einherjar and her maidens both. The women looked, with no uncertainty, towards her before they made any move to obey. Frigga saw his temper rise and told herself she was not afraid, simply excited at having won another point. She held his gaze and said aloud, “will you give my husband and I our privacy, handmaidens?”

The women bowed as one. Their long, elegant skirts would never shift to show the extent of their freedom, the number of weapons they concealed. The loose bodices appeared to conceal plump chests and bellies, but instead guarded lightweight dwarven armour and powerful muscle. Frigga had trained each and every one of her maidens, and they knew well that she could protect herself without them, too. They turned and walked demurely to the door, curtsying daintily to the Einherjar who held it open for them.

Odin waited until the sound of footsteps had faded to stillness, the loyal servants just outside at wait in the corridor. At last he spoke, his voice as expressionless as his face. “You dare defy me like this?”

“I dare much more in the name of my children,” she said, and unlike him, allowed her voice to fill with just a hint of the depths to which she would go. To which she should have gone many years before.

“You seem to think you are indispensable to me.”

She shook her head, and her blood thundered in her ears. “Indeed, I know otherwise, husband. I know there are none you would not forsake in your pursuit of power.”

“Of power?” he demanded. “Have I not been a faithful guardian of all nine realms for millennia? Have I not cared for your realm, and all others, keeping them safe from the marauders of the rest of the galaxy? How deep does this betrayal go, Frigga?” 

The hint of hurt in his voice almost caught her, but she shook her head, as a cue to herself as much as him. “Do you know, Odin, that the humans have words for such as you? Narcissist. Abuser.”

“Abuse!” He scoffed. “You know not the meaning of the word! I have never treated you or our children with any cruelty, and only brought punishment for crimes that deserved it! As with any of my subjects, had their behaviour been above reproach, there would have been no reproach. All punishment was brought to them by their own hand.”

“There is a word they have for such insidiousness too,” she continued, almost conversationally. “They call it gaslighting. When a person in power manipulates another to believe that they are misremembering events, or feeling emotions incorrectly, or thinking incorrectly. As a woman who has long been lauded for her intelligence, I am ashamed that I have allowed it to continue so long, but I have been assured that there is no shame to be placed at the victim’s door. And yes, I am not ashamed to count myself a victim either. What I am ashamed about is that I have allowed you to victimise our sons, particularly Loki, for so many centuries in this way. Indeed, I have added to his suffering, telling him you have a reason for all you do, when even I could not see it. That ends today, Odin. You have stricken Loki from your bloodline, but I have taken him into mine. He is my son, and I shall allow no-one to threaten him, or his brother.”

“And so, because Frigga wills it, he is now free to commit his crimes across the galaxy?” Odin scoffed.

Frigga did not allow him to continue. She had come to the end of her patience, and it was time to bring this conversation to a close. “I know about Hela.”

Odin’s voice, his very breathing, seemed to come to an abrupt end. He stared at her, and Frigga wondered if the faintest hint of fear had crept into his visage. “Hela.”

“Indeed,” she said. “Your firstborn child. She who fought to please you in every way, and when she became too much of a threat - too much _like you_ \- she was locked away. I imagine she would be interested to receive another visit from her stepmother.”

“You would not—“

“I would,” she said, and could not hold back the viciousness. “I have failed my children, I have held back while I watched you build them up only to tear them down, time and time again. Make unreasonable demands, and then punish them for failing _and_ for succeeding in meeting your expectations. You have wanted puppets, and will never see the worth in any of your children as they are, as I have wished for so long. It is over, Odin Allfather. Should you ever make a threat on either myself or my children, I shall not hesitate to ally myself with Hela.”

Odin was on her in an instant, his hands at her throat. “I should kill you where you stand!”

She smiled, calmed her heart. “And do you think I have not prepared for such an eventuality? You may never have admitted it aloud, but you know in your heart it is true - I have always been more skilled at magic than you, and have always been able to find a hole in your workings.”

Odin’s face paled. He stepped back and she stood upright once more, not allowing herself to touch her throat, to breathe any differently. It was no empty threat. Should she die, Hela’s prison would become her throne, all of Frigga’s power flooding her veins. She would prefer a longer term approach, one which would temper the poor girl’s broken fury, and she had… plans to that effect. But if safety was denied her and her sons, she would settle for revenge.

Without a word, Odin swept from the room. Frigga waited until he had marched down the corridor before slumping slightly, taking a deep breath. 

She walked over to Agent Coulson’s tablet and lifted it from the desk, turning it so that the screen faced upwards. “Agent Fury, it is good to see you once more.”

“The honour is all mine, your Majesty,” said the image of Fury on the screen. He sat behind a great wooden desk, hands clasped in front of him. “I’m glad to see you remain unharmed. I must admit to being concerned there once or twice.”

She smiled and was glad the man had only been able to hear, not see, else the assassins she was sure he had secreted around the room would have surely come to her rescue, as unnecessary as it was. “Your support and hospitality has been invaluable, Agent,” she said instead. “I believe we have been successful in our endeavour.”

He nodded once. “It sounds that way, for now. And you’re sure Odin will not decide to attack at a later date?”

She shook her head. “He may have done so had he been able to reach Midgard earlier. But with the destruction of the Bifrost, he has been forced to only observe your world, and see the full power of your heroes. Not only yours, but those in Japan, Wakanda, England, and many others. Beyond that, the simple force of numbers of you humans has been enough to give him pause. Even so, as we discussed, my handmaidens will each be dispatched to provide the gifts you requested.”

“A pleasure doing business with you, your Majesty. With the apples distributed carefully we may have some chance of protecting our world in the long run… the _very_ long run.”

“It will almost certainly be the last time we can provide such a payment for your assistance. I hope you have taken that into consideration?”

“Princess Shuri of Wakanda has several contingency plans already in place,” he said. “And I imagine Stark and Banner will be able to take similar steps.”

Frigga allowed a full grin to split her face. “In that case, I shall leave you to your logistics,” she said. “Well met, Agent Fury.”

“God speed,” he said wryly, and the screen went blank.

She left it on the table, then stepped out into the corridor. Her handmaidens arranged themselves at her back as she walked out into the common room to see her sons, her beloved sons, in a tight embrace, Loki sobbing in his brother’s arms as Thor comforted him. For a moment she wasn’t sure she would be able to speak around the lump in her throat. When she did it was a croak. “My sons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to reassure you, Fury's been working without the permission of the World Security Council here. He doesn't want those old fools to be immortal either, and honestly, he doesn't want to be immortal himself. But he has been chatting to king T'Chaka quite a lot recently...
> 
> So. There we go! Like I said, I'm not ruling out future additions, so if there's anything you'd really like to see, let me know in the comments and I might get to it, just... not in the next couple of months :/ work is biting my ass! Or you can drop me an ask on Tumblr - [Gold-From-Straw](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gold-from-straw), and that way when I get to it I'll be able to link you! ILY all ^_^


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